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THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 







































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Whitey’s solid fist landed on Injun’s jaw 





THE 

GOLDEN WEST BOYS 

"INJUN” AND “WHITEY” 

A Story of Adventure 
BY 

WILLIAM S. HART 

ILLUSTRATIONS BY MORRIS H. PANCOAST 



NEW YORK 

BRITTON PUBLISHING COMPANY 








Copyright, 1919, by 
WILLIAM S. HART 

MADE IN U- S. A. 

All Rights Reserved 








A? 


ivuv -4 1919 


/ 




1 / 


©Ct. A 5 3 fi 4 1 9 
Recorded 


TO MY BOY FRIENDS 





TO MY BOY FRIENDS ALL OVER 
THE WORLD 

The first fifteen years of my life were spent 
in the Dakota Territory. The great West 
mothered me during the shaping of my boy- 
hood ambitions and ideals. Therefore, I know 
by personal experience much of the actual life 
of our frontier days. 

Let me relate a few unusual stories of early 
environment which will show w T hy a man 
brought up in the West never forgets its his- 
tory, traditions and life. 

While boys of my age in the East were 
playing baseball, football and the various school 
games, I was forced through environment to 
play the more primitive games of the Indian. 
I lived on the frontier. White settlers were 
scarce. Naturally, I had but a few boy com- 
panions of my own race. A boy is a boy no 


Vll 


TO MY BOY FRIENDS 


matter what race or country; therefore, we 
played with the Indian youths. 

In this way, I learned to ride Indian-style 
as well as with the saddle; I learned to shoot 
accurately with rifle or six-gun; I learned to 
hunt and track with the wisdom of my red 
friends ; and I learned to play the rugged, body- 
building games of the native Americans, which 
called for the greatest endurance and best 
sportsmanship. In short, I was a Western 
boy. 

For instance, we used to sail primitive In- 
dian ice-boats on the upper Missouri river. 
This sport w r as the chief joy of my winter days. 
With our Indian boy friends we would con- 
struct the ice-boat in this fashion: 

Taking a suitable number of barrel-staves, 
we lashed them together lengthwise with buck- 
skin thongs. Thus the staves were raised from 
the surface both in the front and rear, making 
a canoe effect. Then a soap box was placed 
in the middle of the craft. Next we placed a 
stout pole upright in the front end of the box. 
viii 


ALL OVER THE WORLD 


To a crosspiece on the pole we lashed a blanket. 
We were then all ready to go. 

When the winter winds hit those rude sails, 
we traveled so far and so fast in one direction 
that it would take us all day to walk back 
home. 

During my Dakota boyhood I not only ac- 
quired the accomplishments of the West, but I 
met some of the most famous characters of 
frontier days — white and red men. In fact, 
my early days of intimate relationship with the 
Sioux Indians enabled me to learn their tribal 
traits and history nearly as well as I know 
our own. I speak the “silent tongue” — the sign 
language of the Sioux which, by the way, is 
understood by all Indian tribes. 

In those days the luxuries and even many of 
the necessities of civilization were denied us in 
our frontier settlements. My mother brought 
four children into this world, attended by Sioux 
squaws because a doctor could not be procured. 
And, when a vicious rattler nearly ended my 
career at the age of twelve years, a squaw offi- 
ciated as the doctor, the nearest physician being 


IX 


TO MY BOY FRIENDS 


engaged in punching cows at a ranch some 
sixty miles distant. That the Sioux squaw 
was a good doctor is proven by the fact that I 
am alive today. 

I relate these incidents merely to acquaint 
the public with the West as I knew it. 

When Western plays were first tried out on 
the American stage, I was an actor of consid- 
erable experience. Previous to this time in 
theatrical history I had played many diversified 
roles, including those of Shakespeare. 

As Cash Hawkins in ‘The Squaw Man/’ 
produced at Wallaces Theatre, New York 
City, in 1905, it was my good fortune to be 
able to give the American public a typical 
Western character. My success in this char- 
acter opened up a subsequent line of Western 
roles for me, the emphatic success of “The 
Squaw Man” causing the production of many 
W estern plays. Considerable comment was 

caused by my repeated successes in these char- 
acters that I knew as a boy and loved so well. 
Many persons who were interested in my work 
marveled at the realism of the interpretations, 
x 


ALL OVER THE WORLD 


Their enthusiasm persuaded me that the entire 
American public loved the West and its tradi- 
tions when presented with truthfulness — and 
the boys most of all. 

Unfortunately, other sections of the United 
States had long been deluged with sensational 
“thrillers” of the West on the melodramatic 
stage, in dime novels and later in the early 
motion pictures. Many intelligent people had 
formed the most weird and distorted ideas of 
the West from the history of frontier days to 
the present. 

In 1914 Western pictures were, to use the 
language of the motion-picture producers, “a 
drug on the market.” 

Now I loved the themes of these plays. It 
hurt me to know that what I loved was not 
appreciated simply because the true West was 
sacrificed on the altar of sensationalism. Real- 
izing that because of my early associations of 
the West and my training as an actor com- 
bined, I was qualified to rectify many mistakes 
which were then being made in the production 
of Western photoplays, I decided to try my 
xi 


TO MY BOY FRIENDS 


luck. To give the American public the benefit 
of all I knew of the West from experience and 
training became my one ambition. In turn, I 
would enjoy the gratification of doing some- 
thing that I had longed to do all my life. And, 
naturally, I hoped for increased fame and 
financial success. My continued success in 
Western roles on the stage revealed to me that 
what the public desired most of motion pictures 
of the West was consistent realism. Of this 
fact I was so thoroughly convinced that I was 
ready to sacrifice my standing on the legitimate 
stage, purchased by long years of toil and hard 
knocks, to take a chance with fate. 

So I declined a flattering and remunerative 
offer from a big theatrical firm in New York 
City and paid my own railroad fare to Cali- 
fornia. In May, 1914, I started my work in 
Western pictures as a star at the salary of $75 
a week, with no other financial interest of any 
nature. Such was the status of Western pho- 
toplays at that time. Nearly five years have 
passed since that eventful time in my career. 
That I have devoted this lengthy period ex- 
xii 


ALL OVER THE WORLD 


clusively to the production of Western pictures 
is the best proof that the American public pos- 
sesses a love for the West that will endure for 
all time. 

'The Golden West Boys” is my answer to the 
thousands of letters I have received from the 
boys — most of them, of course, from America, 
but many from all points of the compass. My 
story in verse, "Pinto Ben,” and my prose 
story "The Savage” have been translated and 
published in the Swedish language. With the 
war over translations in other languages are 
to follow. 

All Hail the Boys ! — I shall never "go broke” 
as long as I hold their esteem. My next story 
will continue the "Golden West” Series in 
which "Injun and Whitey Strike out For 
Themselves.” 

"So long, boys — take keer o’ yerselves.” 

Faithfully yours, 

W. S. H. 


xm 






























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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I News from the West 17 

II Preparations . 28 

III Off for the Golden West ... 40 

IV On the Way 47 

V Injun 56 

VI Bill Jordon 62 

VII Western Air and Appetite ... 68 

VIII Whitey Learns to Ride .... 78 

IX The Boys Settle a Question . . 84 

X A Friend in Need 95 

XI The Chinook Wind 105 

XII Mr. Ross Pays a Call . . . . 113 

XIII The Lost Trail 129 

XIV Crowley 153 

XV The Cave Gives Evidence . . . 159 

XVI "Whitey is Missing 171 

XVII Held in Captivity 186 

XVIII Injun Takes a Hand 194 

XIX Injun to the Rescue 206 

XX The Truth About Crowley . . . 219 

XXI Injun Tackles Civilization . . . 226 


xv 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XXII Injun Shies at Pink Pyjamas . . 233 

XXIII Whitey His Own Boss 244 

XXIV Moose Lake 254 

XXV The Island in Moose Lake . . . 262 

XXVI The Man on the Island .... 268 

XXVII A Dangerous Situation .... 274 

XXVIII A Penitent Prisoner . . . . . 287 

XXIX Bringing Home the Captive . . . 295 

XXX Pedro’s Hatred 305 

XXXI Plans for the Future . . . . 312 


xvi 


THE 

GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


CHAPTER I 

NEWS FROM THE WEST 

“Hooray! Hooray !” shouted Alan Sher- 
wood, — better known as “Whitey” to the boys 
in school. “Ooo-lu-lulu-loo-lulu he called, 
making the sound by putting his hand over his 
mouth and rapidly pulling it away and putting 
it back. He considered this a very good imi- 
tation of an Indian war-whoop. 

Mr. Sherwood, “Whitey’s” father, had just 
finished reading aloud a letter from a firm of 
lawyers in Montana which stated that Uncle 
Robert Granville, who died some weeks before, 
had left a will bequeathing his large ranch and 
everything on it to Mr. Sherwood; and that> 
T 7 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


as the ranch was a profitable one, it would be 
necessary for him to come to Montana and 
either carry on the business or see to its 
disposal. 

“Hooray! Hooray !” yelled “Whitey,” ex- 
ecuting a very wild dance, and letting out a 
series of whoops that almost deafened the other 
members of the family. 

“What are you ‘hooraying’ about ?” asked 
Mr. Sherwood, while his wife and his two small 
sisters held their hands over their ears. “I 
hope,” said Mr. Sherwood, with a quizzical 
smile, “it is not because your poor uncle Robert 
is dead?” 

“Why, of course not, Father,” said 
“Whitey,” somewhat abashed; “I’m very sorry 
that Uncle Robert is dead — but — Im just glad 
that I’m going out West and can go hunting 
and be a cow-boy, and maybe shoot a few griz- 
zly bears and Indians!” 

“Who told you that you were going?” asked 
his father, pretending to be very serious, but 
having hard work to keep back a smile. 

“Well, I'd just like to see myself staying 
18 


NEWS FROM THE WEST 


here if we owned a ranch out West!” said 
“Whitey,” with fine scorn. “I’ve heard you 
say, lots of times, that the West is the place 
for a young man !” 

Whitey had just attained the age of fourteen, 
and Mr. Sherwood had to conceal a smile be- 
hind his hand, as he glanced at his wife, who 
was an interested listener. 

“And what do you want to kill Indians for 
— they never did anything to you, did they?” 
asked Mr. Sherwood. 

“No,” said Whitey, hesitating about making 
such an admission, “I don’t know as they ever 
did anything to me — but everybody kills ’em, 
don’t they? In all the Western books I read, 
people always kill ’em — 'wipe ’em out’ is what 
the scouts call it in the books — make ’em 'bite 
the dust !’ I thought that was the proper thing 
to do,” he said, in defense of his position. 

“Well,” said Mr. Sherwood, “I think I’d 
give the matter a little consideration before I 
started the slaughter. It isn’t open season for 
Indians just now, and besides, if the Indians 
should happen to hear that you were coming, 
19 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


they might all leave, while there is yet time 
to escape the White Avenger! And as for 
the grizzlies — did you ever see a grizzly bear, 
Son?” 

“Sure,” said Whitey, disdainfully, “up at the 
Bronx Zoo. He was a terribly moth-eaten 
looking affair — no life in him at all! He just 
went sniffing around and all he cared about 
was to eat peanuts. And when the keeper 
went into the cage, he ran like he was scared 
to death !” 

“Maybe he’d act a little different if he were 
in his native Rockies, and you might not have 
any peanuts with you,” said Mr. Sherwood, 
shaking his head. “Would you believe it, if 
I told you that a grizzly can run almost as 
fast as the fastest horse? And in the brush 
and over the rough ground, a great deal 
faster?” 

“I’d believe it, if you say so; but it doesn’t 
seem possible,” said Whitey, doubtfully. “If 
he can run that fast, it would make him mighty 
hard to catch, wouldn’t it?” he asked, after 
some thought. 


20 


NEWS FROM THE WEST 


“It would,” laughed Mr. Sherwood, “if he 
always ran the other way — but he doesn’t! 
Sometimes it’s harder to let him go than it is 
to catch him! Sometimes he runs after you 
— and then you’d have to 'go some’ — as you 
say.” 

“If he ever came at me,” said Whitey, bellig- 
erently, “I’d put a bullet in his heart !” 

“Even that doesn’t always stop a grizzly, 
right away,” said Mr. Sherwood. “They have 
very surprising vitality. I think that, for the 
time being, I’d let the Indians and grizzlies 
alone — let the poor things live! At any rate, 
you’re not out West, yet, and it may be that I 
shall decide not to go at all — though I suppose 
I shall,” and Mr. Sherwood proceeded to pon- 
der over the matter. Nevertheless, it was plain 
to be seen that he, too, felt the call of the moun- 
tain and the prairie almost as much as did his 
son. 

Although a prosperous merchant in New 
York he had spent several years of his early 
life in the great West; and once a man gets 
the lure of the wilds in his blood, ne is seldom 


21 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


able to shake it off altogether. But he felt 
that there were too many things to be con- 
sidered — his business, his family and their 
welfare and the schooling of his children— to 
make a hasty decision, pack up, bag and bag- 
gage, and leave a comfortable home for a new 
and untried one. 

No one, not even grown-ups, can always do 
just as he likes. Everybody has obligations to 
others ; and there are many things that we all 
must forego to fulfill those obligations — as a 
matter of duty. For duty is, after all, nothing 
but fulfilling obligations, and the sooner a boy 
learns this, the sooner he becomes a man! 

Alan Sherwood, although he was only four- 
teen years old, was getting to be a good 
deal of a man. The nickname “Whitey” had 
been given him by his companions at school 
on account of his light blonde hair. He had 
resented it, at first; but after he found out that 
he couldn’t “lick the whole school,” — although 
he came pretty near doing it — he gradually 
became resigned to it, and answered to it 
readily. 


22 


NEWS FROM THE WEST 


Whitey was large for his age, and was far 
stronger than the average boy of fifteen or 
sixteen. This had been brought about by the 
fact that he had been a weakling up to the time 
he was seven or eight, and had been humiliated 
and imposed upon by the other boys until he 
determined to remedy his physical defects, if 
hard work and systematic exercise would do it. 

He consulted his father and found out that 
the first thing for an athlete to do was to 
breathe properly, for “wind” is a most import- 
ant thing in all contests of strength and endur- 
ance. 

“No matter how fast a boy can run,” said 
Mr. Sherwood who had been a famous college 
athlete in his day, “if he hasn't good wind, he 
won't last in a long race; and even if he is far 
stronger than his opponent in a boxing or a 
wrestling bout, he will be beaten by the boy 
who has good wind.” 

Whitey began by taking a long, deep breath, 
as soon as he came out of doors in the morn- 
ing, and holding it while he walked ten steps; 
and this he repeated ten times. It made him 
23 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


a little dizzy, at first, but he found that he 
could soon increase it to twenty and thirty times 
without discomfort. He was careful to make 
the increase very gradually, stopping the deep 
breathing as soon as he felt the slightest dizzi- 
ness. 

Then he began to take up systematic and 
regular running, jogging around the block at 
a slow pace, and slowing down to a walk as 
soon as he felt his heart beating fast. He soon 
found that he could negotiate this without 
breathing hard, and then he began to increase 
the distance. He had been assured by his 
father that many boys, and men, too, who think 
they are training are really hurting themselves 
by over-doing it, and are surprised to find that 
they do not get into condition, being ignorant 
of the fact that moderation is the basis of all 
success. 

Mr. Sherwood pointed out to Whitey that 
shrewd baseball managers do not allow their 
men to exert themselves to the utmost in the 
early days of spring training, but compel them 
to “lob ’em over” until their arm-muscles be- 
24 


NEWS FROM THE WEST 


come flexible. And they will not allow a player 
to run bases at top speed for fear that he may 
strain a tendon in his leg and impair his speed 
for a large part of the playing season. 

“It is a hard thing for a young and ambi- 
tious athlete to keep himself in check when he 
is brimming over with health and strength and 
enthusiasm,” said Mr. Sherwood, “but it is 
the real way to train. Many a young athlete 
ruins his chances for future success by going 
at it too violently at first.” 

Of course, there were many other things that 
Mr. Sherwood showed Whitey, one of the most 
important being regular hours — regular hours 
for sleep and for play; in short, to be sys- 
tematic. And another thing of great impor- 
tance was cleanliness — both of mind and body 
— for no boy or man can, or ever did, become 
a really great athlete without the aid of both 
of these. 

And as for smoking — “Well,” said Mr. 
Sherwood, “I can’t say that there is any- 
thing really wrong about a man smoking, but 
for a boy to smoke means that he is willing to 
25 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


sacrifice almost everything to that. It not only 
is apt to stunt his growth, but one cigarette may 
destroy all the good effects of a week’s train- 
ing. And not only that, it affects the eye and 
the nerves — takes away accuracy from the eye, 
and makes the hand unsteady. I don’t believe 
it pays — I don’t believe there is enough fun in 
smoking to make up for what it costs a boy in 
a physical way, even if there were no other 
reasons.” 

And so Whitey really went into training 
without seeming to have done so — any boy can 
do it; he doesn’t need any dumb-bells or gym- 
nasium apparatus — and the result was, that by 
the time he was thirteen, he was the strongest 
boy in the school ; and what is more important, 
he had learned to control himself. He wasn’t 
nearly so anxious to fight as he had been, al- 
though, when he did get into a fight, he was 
able to render a good account of himself. It is 
always found that the boy who really can fight 
isn’t nearly so quarrelsome as the one who is 
always ready to start a fight — and let some 
other fellow finish it! 

26 


NEWS FROM THE WEST 


Long after Whitey had gone to bed, and was 
dreaming of picking up a grizzly bear by the 
hind leg and knocking down eleven Indians 
with him, Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood sat debating 
the pros and cons of going to Montana. And 
it was finally decided that before moving their 
home to the West, Mr. Sherwood should go 
out to the ranch and learn what the conditions 
were and whether it was a suitable place to 
bring his family. And what is more interest- 
ing, it was finally agreed that Whitey was to 
go with him, although this arrangement was 
not made without some protest from Mrs. Sher- 
wood, who had a mother’s natural solicitude for 
her boy. But Mr. Sherwood said, with a smile 
and a shake of the head, that he was not at all 
fearful about Whitey — “It’s the poor Indians 
and grizzlies I’m sorry for!” 


27 


CHAPTER II 

PREPARATIONS 

The next few days were busy ones for 
Whitey and his friends. It was vacation time, 
and as soon as Whitey had the “honest-to-good- 
ness” assurance that he was “really and truly” 
going out West, he lost no time in communi- 
cating the news to all the boys. He found Tom 
Johnson at breakfast ; but after Tom had heard 
the news, he had no further appetite, and went 
with Whitey over to the home of George and 
Bobby Smith, and the four boys went out 
to talk over the matter. Whitey’s equipment 
was a matter for much consideration. 

“Gee !” said Tom, “you’ll need a revolver — 
Colt’s forty-five is what all the cowboys use 
— an’ the sheriffs, too. An’ a Winchester 
rifle.” 


28 


PREPARATIONS 


“Yes,” said George, “an' ’f I was you, I’d 
take a lot o’ fishin’-tackle and rods an’ reels an’ 
things. You bet there’s fish out there in Mon- 
tana — I’ve heard the fish are so thick in some 
river out there that you can walk in an* ketch 
’em with your hands !” 

“I guess you’re thinking of the Columbia 
River salmon — that ain’t in Montana,” said 
Whitey, who was up in geography. 

“Well,” said George, unconvinced, “it’s right 
out there in the West, some place — mebbe you 
could tramp over there some afternoon. I 
know I would ’f I was out there!” 

“Well, I’ll tell you what I’d do,” chimed in 
Bobby, excitedly, “ ’f I was you, the first thing 
I got would be a big felt hat an’ some cowboy 
clothes! If you don’t they all call you a “ten- 
derfoot,” an’ they’ll make you do a dance by 
shootin’ at your feet ! I’ve seen ’em do it in the 
movies lots o’ times.” Bobby was aged six, 
but he had advanced ideas and experience, too. 
“An’ you’re going to want a saddle an’ a lariat 
an’ a good pair o’ snow-shoes — it snows fierce 
out there in Montana an’ Alaska an’ all those 
29 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


places — ’t ain’t safe to go any place without 
snow-shoes! A blizzard is liable to come up 
any old time !” 

The wisdom of all this was readily admitted; 
and after a list had been carefully prepared, 
the four boys went to a big sporting-goods 
store and submitted it, and asked to see the 
various articles. The clerk looked the list over 
and got out the various things it called for, 
which included everything from a baseball — 
which Tom said “might come in handy” — to 
snow-shoes. Each of the boys handled and 
carefully inspected each article and approved 
it. Whitey had looked at some woodman’s 
hatchets, but Bobby suggested that Whitey 
could take a tomahawk away from the first 
Indian he killed and thus save expense. 

“How much would all that come to ?” asked 
Whitey, a little apprehensively. 

The clerk figured it up. “One hundred and 
sixty-eight dollars and forty cents,” he said 
cheerfully. 

A hurried audit of the finances of the party 
30 


PREPARATIONS 


revealed the fact that the cash capital on hand 
amounted to two thirty-six! 

“Just send them up to the house,” said 
Whitey, loftily, and he gave the name and the 
address. One of the proprietors stood near 
and listened smilingly to the whole transaction ; 
and when the boys had gone, he went to the 
telephone. 

Mr. Sherwood, in his office, picked up the 
receiver, and a familiar voice came over the 
wire: “Hello, Sherwood! This is Robertson. 
Your boy was just in here with some friends 
and bought out the store ! He’s evidently going 
out West — with a vengeance!” 

“Is that so?” laughed Mr. Sherwood. “What 
did he buy?” 

“I can tell you what he didn't buy easier than 
what he did! The bill amounts to one hundred 
and sixty-eight, forty. What do you want me 
to do? — he said to send the stuff up to the 
house!” and Robertson laughed the good- 
natured laugh of a man who appreciates boys. 

“Great Jehosaphat!” said Mr. Sherwood; 
“What kind of a selection did he make?” 

31 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Well,” answered Mr. Robertson, “it isn’t 
altogether bad, but of course, he’s got a lot of 
things that he won’t need at all. It’s June, and 
he has selected an elegant pair of snow-shoes !” 

“My, my!” exclaimed Mr. Sherwood. “Can 
you beat it?” 

“Yes,” answered Mr. Robertson, “I think 
I can. He had expert advice from the three 
youngsters who were with him and it was more 
or less a consultation purchase. One of the 
kids assured him that it was the next thing to 
suicide to go around Butte, Montana, without 
a compass ! Said a man might get into Butte 
and wander ’round and ’round in a circle and 
never get anywhere, if he didn’t have a com- 
pass! Ha, ha! I guess that beats the snow- 
shoes, doesn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to admit that it does !” laughed Mr. 
Sherwood. “Any other freak stuff?” 

“Well,” laughed Mr. Robertson, “I wish 
you’d run over here and take a look at it ! Or, if 
you say so, I’ll send it all up to the house and 
you can return anything you don’t want him 
to have. It is certainly surprising how much. 

32 


PREPARATIONS 


those kids know about the West, at that. I 
suppose they get it from the movies — the outfit 
wouldn’t be bad for a man, but I know you 
don’t want that kid of yours to have some of 
the things. There’s a Colt forty-five and a 
'scalping-knife’, the boys called it, a foot long, 
among other things.” 

“Pm not really surprised,” laughed Mr. 
Sherwood. "The minute Alan heard the news 
about the ranch, he declared war on Indians 
and grizzlies ! Don’t bother to send the stuff 
up to the house — I’ll bring the boy in and buy 
some stuff before I go. Thanks for calling me 
up! I need a few things, myself, but they are 
strictly in the line of peace.” 

That evening, after dinner, Mr. Sherwood 
said, good-naturedly, "Mr. Robertson tells me 
that you made a few purchases to-day, Son ?” 

"Yes,” answered Whitey, "but they haven’t 
come. I’ve been looking for them all afternoon 
— I guess something’s the matter.” 

"Have you got the list of the things you 
ordered?” asked his father. "I’d like to look 
at it — maybe I can make some suggestions — 
33 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


possibly you didn't get enough ?" and Mr. Sher- 
wood repressed a smile. 

“Oh, yes ! I guess I got about everything I 
wanted. Tom and George and Bobby were 
with me, and the things I didn't think of they 
did. It only came to one hundred and sixty- 
eight dollars, and you know I’ve got more than 
two hundred in the savings bank." And 
Whitey showed the list to his father. 

Mr. Sherwood examined it with a good deal 
of interest. “Well," he said, “this shows that 
you have been thinking the matter over and 
getting prepared — which is all right. But I 
don’t believe I’d carry all these things out there, 
if I were you. They can be bought there just 
as well, and many of them are unnecessary. 
It's summer now, and I don't think you'll need 
any snow-shoes just yet, and as for rifle and 
revolver, I'm not sure that I ought to buy you 
anything in that line until you know something 
more than you do about handling them. We'll 
see to that after we get out there." 

“Do you mean to say that there are stores 

34 


PREPARATIONS 


— regular stores — out there in Montana ?” 
asked Whitey, in astonishment. 

“Oh, yes,” smiled Mr. Sherwood, “some very 
fine ones — you can buy about anything there 
that you can here. And as for those ‘cow- 
boy clothes/ I think a couple of good suits 
of corduroy would be better — the big felt hat 
is all right — after you get used to it. I’ll get 
you everything you need, though I’d like to 
have you suggest things for me to get and I’ll 
tell you whether you should have them. It is 
well for a boy to study out those things for 
himself, and then take advice of some one who 
knows as to the things he really needs. 

“On a man’s first trip into the West, he al- 
most always takes a lot of stuff that is of no 
value to him, and might better be left at home. 
But, there is such a thing as not taking enough, 
and we’ll be careful to avoid that.” 

Then he added, “And another thing, Son — 
you won’t find that there is as much difference 
between New York and Montana as you think. 
You mustn’t get the idea that people out there 
are altogether savages, and that Indians and 
35 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


'bad men' go around shooting up people every 
day. Of course, there is a little of that sort of 
thing, even now; but I believe there are more 
people murdered in New York City every year 
than in all the states west of the Mississippi put 
together. I may be wrong, but I think not.” 

Whitey looked much disappointed, and his 
father laughed as he saw his rueful face. 
"You'll see plenty of adventure — don't worry 
about that ! But you'll find people a good deal 
the same as they are here.” 

"Don't the Indians put on war-paint and 
feathers and have a war-dance and scalp the 
pale-faces — and things like that?” asked 
Whitey, reluctant to give up all his cherished 
traditions. 

"Well, not exactly,” said Mr. Sherwood, 
smiling. "The sheriff won't let 'em. He just 
locks ’em up until they get sober, and then puts 
'em to work on the rock-pile.” 

This seemed to take a good deal of enchant- 
ment out of things, and Mr. Sherwood added, 
"I am speaking, of course, of where we are 
going. There are many places where the In- 

36 


PREPARATIONS 


dians have to be watched and reckoned with; 
but you won’t be very likely to get into those 
places.” 

Out on the front steps, later in the evening, 
Whitey and the boys held a consultation, and 
the sad news about the gun and the revolver 
was received with much apprehension and 
shaking of heads. 

“Gee!” said Tom, “I’d certainly hate to be 
out West among those bears an’ panthers an’ 
cowboys an’ Indians without a gun!” 

“We’ll simply haf to get Whitey one — some- 
how!” said George who was much concerned. 
“ ’T ain’t safe for a man out there ’thout he’s 
heeled! Mebbe,” he continued, after some 
thought, “if Whitey ain’t goin’ till next week 
we can manage it — somehow!” 

Bobby, the youngest boy of the lot, was 
as much alarmed about Whitey’s safety as any- 
body, but he said nothing. However, he gave 
the matter deep and even prayerful thought. 
On his knees, that night, he concluded his 
prayers — “And, Lord, please don’t let Whitey 
37 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


go out West without a revolver! You blow 
it ain’t safe! Amen!” 

And that was why Bobby’s father never 
could find that little, pearl-handled pistol that 
he kept in the automobile ! 

Many of the boys in the neighborhood 
dropped in, and by bedtime Whitey was the 
most envied as well as the most popular boy 
on the block. He had promised a bear or a 
panther-skin to every one of his pals, allow- 
ing each of them to make his own selection — 
some preferred bear, some panther, with a 
slight demand for buffalo. It was all the same 
to Whitey. 

There were requests for souvenir Indian 
scalps, but Whitey was doubtful about supply- 
ing them. And they in return, had given him 
much sage advice as to how he should conduct 
himself when he ca|ne in contact with the 
desperate characters, both man and beast, that 
he must inevitably encounter in the wilds of 
Montana. It was unanimously agreed that a 
compass was necessary. 

“This goin’ around Butte without a compass, 

38 


PREPARATIONS 


is takin’ a chance,” said Tom, with a warning 
shake of his head. “ ’Most as bad as bein’ 
without a gun ! If a man ain’t got a compass,” 
warned Tom, for the sixth time, “an’ he gets 
lost, he goes ’round and ’round in a circle and 
doesn’t get anywhere!” 

It was agreed that this would be very bad 
in Butte! 


39 


CHAPTER III 


OFF FOR THE GOLDEN WEST 

Astheeventful day approached when Whitey 
and his father were to start, it seemed to 
Whitey as though Old Father Time had lost 
his habit of flying, and had subsided into a 
very slow walk. Whitey’s entire equipment 
was purchased at Mr. Robertson’s store where 
he and the boys had made their selection at 
first, and Tom and George and Bobby had been 
allowed to come along and assist in the buying 
and selection. 

And, too, Mr. Sherwood made certain con- 
cessions. The apprehension of the boys was 
so great at the thought of Whitey being in the 
wilds of Montana without a gun, that, after 
some hesitation, Whitey 's father allowed a 
Winchester .22 calibre rifle, with a safety-lock, 
40 


OFF FOR THE GOLDEN WEST 


to be added to the equipment. It was expressly 
agreed, however, that the rifle must not be 
loaded until the boy had arrived at the ranch 
in Montana. 

Mr. Sherwood put Whitey through a sort of 
drill, instructing him in the mechanical work- 
ings of the gun, and how to handle it under all 
circumstances — walking, running, climbing a 
fence or a hill or a tree, or on horse-back; 
and explaining that a different method must be 
used when a companion is with you than if 
you are alone. Whitey was made to under- 
stand that when not in use, the muzzle of a gun 
must point either straight up into the air or 
straight down at the ground, and never in the 
direction of any other person nor in the direc- 
tion of himself . “And,” said Mr. Sherwood, 
“if you ever aim the gun at any one, I will take 
it away from you and never let you have it 
again.” 

“But,” said Whitey, “if the gun isn't loaded, 
what harm can it do ?” 

“That is exactly the trouble,” said his father, 
impressively. “It is the guns that ( are not 
4i 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


loaded ’ that kill somebody! Careless boys — 
and men, too — often think the gun isn’t loaded, 
when it is, and that is the time when the dam- 
age is done! So, the only rule is, don’t ever 
point a gun at any one whether it is unloaded 
or not !” 

Whitey readily agreed to all these condi- 
tions, for he could see the wisdom of them. 
The corduroy suits were purchased and the 
wide-brimmed hat as well as two pairs of 
heavy shoes and a pair of water-proof boots 
that came high up on Whitey’s legs above the 
knee. The compass — a small pocket one — was 
added to allay Tom’s fear that Whitey might 
get lost in the wilderness of Butte! Then Mr. 
Sherwood added two things which the boys had 
not thought of — a big strong jack-knife and 
a camera. 

“You boys will find that hunting with a 
camera is just about as much fun as hunting 
with a gun,” said Mr. Sherwood. It isn’t 
necessary to kill every animal you run across. 
It is just as interesting and far less cruel to 
take his picture, and the animal likes it a great 
42 


OFF FOR THE GOLDEN WEST 


deal better — and you’ve got something to show 
afterward. And as for the jack-knife, you’ll 
find that to be one of the most useful things 
you can have when you are in the wilds.” 

“Yes,” said the excited Bobby, “an’ if 
Whitey kills an Indian, he can take his pic- 
ture first, with the camera, and scalp him after- 
wards with the knife!” 

“You don’t ever scalp an Indian — nobody 
does!” said Tom, reprovingly. 

“Father says it ain’t open season for In- 
dians now — the sheriff won’t let any one kill 
’em,” said Whitey, a little disgustedly. “They 
put ’em to work on the rock-pile if they get 
gay, like they used to. Besides,” he added, with 
an air of superior wisdom, “the Indians are 
kind o’ dyin’ out, anyway — just like buffaloes 
— and the ones that don’t die go to Carlisle 
College, or some place.” 

“Gee!” said George, “I saw the Carlisle 
football team play over at the Polo Grounds 
last fall! They didn’t look as though they 
were ‘dyin’ out!’ They ‘put it all over’ some 
43 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


Eastern college ! I wouldn’t advise Whitey to 
try to scalp one of those fellows!” 

“Of course not!” said Whitey. “They’re 
educated and civilized — just like other folks. 
The kind you kill — in all the books — are the 
ones that get drunk on fire-water and put paint 
and feathers on ’emselves and go ’round mur- 
dering the white settlers and burning folks at 
the stake. The Carlisle boys don’t do any of 
those things !” 1 

“Well,” said Bobby, dubiously, reluctant to 
give up cherished traditions, “I dunno. You 
can’t tell — they might !” 

Mr. Sherwood ended the discussion by say- 
ing that they better get home and finish pack- 
ing; and the boys were much put out when 
Mr. Sherwood had the big package sent to 
his house. It would have looked so much more 
like business if they could have carried the 
gun through the streets ! 

It seemed to Whitey that the next morning 
would never come, but it did, finally, and there 
was a large delegation at the Pennsylvania Sta- 
tion to say good-by. While the farewells were 
44 


OFF FOR THE GOLDEN WEST 


being said, Bobby took Whitey a little aside 
and with much secrecy slipped the little pearl- 
handled .22 revolver into his hand and Whitey 
hastily transferred it to his hip-pocket. 

“I got it out of our car !” Bobby whispered. 
“Mother was always afraid of it an’ tried to 
make Daddy get rid of it — so I just took it! 
You oughta have it on the train — you know, 
for train-robbers, or somethin’! Jack Hark- 
away says 'a man oughta go heeled !’ Mebbe,” 
he added, a little apprehensively, “it ’d be jes’ 
as well not to say anythin’ about it — till you 
get out there.” 

“Is she loaded?” asked Whitey, in an awed 
whisper. 

“Sure!” said Bobby. 

“I guess, mebbe, I better unload her,” said 
Whitey, and he did. 

Whitey thanked his loyal little pal, and 
agreed that the matter should be kept entirely 
secret. And it must be confessed that Whitey 
felt very much safer — now that he was 
“heeled,” though it made sitting down awkward 
and slightly uncomfortable. 

45 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


Finally — it seemed an hour — the train pulled 
out, and, after kissing his mother and sisters 
many times, and amid a hurrah from the boys 
and a great waving of hands by everybody, 
Whitey was on his way into the Boundless 
West. 


4 6 


CHAPTER IV 


ON THE WAY 

The train carrying Whitey and his father 
sped across the continent at an average speed 
of perhaps fifty miles an hour, but it seemed 
to Whitey that it crawled along at a snail's 
pace after it had crossed the Mississippi. The 
first day, and most of the second, were novel- 
ties ; new scenes presented themselves continu- 
ally and Whitey kept his face glued to the win- 
dow. But after that the monotony of the thing 
became tiresome even to so wide-awake a boy 
as Whitey. 

Of course, as they came into the great 
prairies and away from “civilization,” the 
chance of encountering train-robbers lent an 
added zest to things ; but as time went on and 
47 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


3 


no train robbers appeared, Whitey gradually 
came to the conclusion that the train-robbing 
business was not all it had been cracked up to 
be, and that maybe the Daltons and the James 
Boys and the rest of the bandits had retired. 
Which, perhaps, was fortunate for them, as 
it will be remembered that Whitey had the 
pearl-handled .22 in his hip-pocket ! He should 
worry about train-robbers ! 

Whitey was completely staggered at the size 
of his own country. He had no idea it was so 
large; distances, on the map, had seemed insig- 
nificant, but when traveled, became prodi- 
gious. And long before he got to his destination 
Whitey had come to the conclusion that this 
is the greatest country on earth — as indeed it 
is! 

Mr. Sherwood told him the story of the 
foreigner who started from New York for San 
Francisco. When the train got to Chicago, the 
foreigner asked of the porter, “Aren't we there 
yet?” 

“Nossah,” said the porter, “not yet!” 

Every morning, for three mornings, he asked 
48 


ON THE WAY 


the same question, and received the same an- 
swer. 

When they finally got to San Francisco, 
after about five days, the foreigner said, “They 
make an awful fuss about Columbus having 
discovered America — I don’t see how he could 
have missed it!” 

In order to get to the ranch, it had been 
necessary to leave the main line at a junction, 
and take a branch road up into the northern 
part of Montana. Traveling in this train was 
slightly different from what they had enjoyed 
in the luxurious Pullman, but Whitey felt that 
they were now near their journey’s end, and he 
didn’t mind the inconvenience of the combina- 
tion baggage and passenger coach which was 
the only one on the “train.” 

Whitey and his father alighted on a small 
platform, in the early hours of the morning, 
and the prospect seemed dismal enough. There 
were only a few people in sight, and it was cold 
and raw. Even in summer, at a high altitude, 
such as in the foot-hills of the Rockies, the 
early morning is cold. 

49 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


•? 

As they looked about them, a tall, and very 
sunbrowned man approached and said, “I 
reckon you must be Mr. Sherwood ?” and on 
being assured that such was the case, the tall 
man introduced himself: “Fm Bill Jordan, 
the foreman of the Granville ranch. Your tele- 
gram was a mite delayed, but I managed to get 
here with a wagon to meet the train. You an’ 
this youngster has a pretty long drive ahead, 
an' I’d suggest yo’ all better get a hot cup o’ 
coffee an’ some eggs over to the shack ’cross 
the road before yo’ all starts.” This was most 
agreeable to both Whitey and his father, and 
they proceeded to the shack for breakfast. 

It must be acknowledged that what they 
called “breakfast,” was not much like what 
Whitey used to get at home. The room was 
low and dingy, and the dishes were thick and 
cracked, and a big man who acted as waiter, 
seemed to “deal” the plates from his arm. But 
“hunger is the best sauce,” and Whitey man- 
aged to consume everything that was set be- 
fore him, while his father and Jordan talked 
about the ranch. 

50 


ON THE WAY 


Whitey liked the big man the moment he saw 
him. He had a firm and rather cold face, but 
a very kindly one when he smiled. His manner 
toward every one was reserved. It was evident 
that the other men all deferred to him. He did 
as little talking as possible, and his eyes seemed 
to be taking in everything. He always thought 
for some time before he expressed an opinion ; 
but when he did venture one, it carried convic- 
tion with it. And what meant more than any- 
thing else to Whitey, was the fact that he took 
a good deal of notice of him, asking him one or 
two questions about New York, and telling 
Whitey that there were lots of horses on the 
ranch for him to ride. 

When they came out of the shack, Whitey got 
his first look at an Indian, except those that he 
had seen in the Wild West shows. His 

shoulders were covered with a very dirty 
blanket, his trousers were much too long and 
were crumpled about his ankles and under his 
bare feet at the heels. Altogether, he was not 
an impressive figure. He stood near the wagon 
while their baggage was being loaded into it, 
5i 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


and watching his opportunity, approached Mr. 
Sherwood. But whatever the Indian intend- 
ed to do was nipped in the bud, for Bill Jordan 
came back a little unexpectedly. “Beat it!” said 
Jordan, and the Indian ducked away hastily, 
just in time to escape most of the kick that 
Jordan aimed at him. 

This was most astonishing to Whitey. 
The Indian did not conduct himself in the way 
that might be expected from the books that 
Whitey had read, and as “the proud Red Man 
of lofty mien and bearing,” this Indian was 
a most dismal failure. According to all the 
authorities, he should have said to Jordan, 
drawing himself to his full height, “Dog of a 
Paleface, an insult to Rain-in- the-Neck can be 
wiped out only in blood! Let the White Man 
tremble before the vengeance of the Chief of 
The Wallawalloos!” 

But nothing like that happened, at all. No 
full height; no dignity of folded arms and 
proud and awful threat of terrible vengeance. 
The Indian just “beat it!” And half way 


ON THE WAY 


across the platform, he stopped and scratched 
himself. It was all wrong! All wrong! 

In a few moments, everything was in readi- 
ness and they entered the wagon, Jordan tak- 
ing Whitey on the seat with him. They sped 
over the ground at a fast and steady gait that 
put the miles behind surprisingly. And Whitey 
had many questions to ask about the various 
interesting things they saw, which Jordan an- 
swered cheerfully. 

Whitey could not get the Indian out of his 
mind. “Are all the Indians out here like that 
one?” he asked, after a while. 

“Well, no,” said Jordan, “not all of ’em. 
That feller evidently don’t b’long up here ; he’s 
prob’ly from the Southwest an’ ain’t nuthin’ 
but a sort of a hobo. He’s jest a sample of the 
kind that hangs ’round towns. An Indian 
h’aint no business in a town — he belongs in the 
open. He h’aint no more business bein’ in a 
town ner an eagle has bein’ in a cage — both on 
’em is plumb mint by it. Now, the’s some In- 
dians up North fu’ther,” Jordan went on, after 
a pause, “that’s quite consider’ble men — 

53 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


'twouldn't be safe exac’ly, to kick none of 'em, 
'less you wanted a fight. But they keeps to 
theirselves — 'way from town." Whitey's fal- 
len hopes in the noble Red Man revived a little 
at this. 

“Do those fellows give you any trouble 
now?" asked Mr. Sherwood. “I mean the In- 
dians that gave Mr. Granville so much trouble 
some years ago." 

“Not lately," said Jordan, and his grim face 
set hard. “We give 'em quite consider’ble of 
a lesson, one time. They was a bunch o' Dako- 
tas wanderin' 'round, an' they sure played hob 
with the cattle, fer a spell. The' was some 
Greasers among 'em, too; but we give a few 
neck-tie parties an' they kind o' got discour- 
aged." 

“What is a neck-tie party, Mr. Jordan?" 
asked Whitey. 

“Well," said Jordan, smiling, “the way o' 
playin' the game is like this : you take a man — 
gener'ly a Greaser — an' tie his hands behind 
him an' set him onto a horse. Then you make 
a slip-knot in a rope, or a lariat, an’ you put it 
54 


ON THE WAY 


’round the Greaser’s neck an’ throw the other 
end over the limb of a tree, an’ two or three 
o’ the boys takes a holt of it. Then, if some- 
body happens to hit the horse a slap — well, 
most gener’ly the neck-tie fits sort o’ snug !” 

“Why, that’s hanging a man!” exclaimed 
Whitey, all excitement. 

“Some calls it that,” said Jordan, dryly. “I 
guess it ’mounts to ’bout the same thing — fer 
the man! But, y’ see, this way, it’s gener’ly 
a kind of a accident — somebody jes’ happens to 
slap the horse, or mebbe the horse is res’less an’ 
moves hisself. Then th’ ain’t nobody to blame !” 

“Gee !” said Whitey, “I’d like to see one of 
those parties !” 

“Well, I dunno,” said Jordan, soberly, “they 
ain’t altogether such all-fired pleasant an’ so- 
ciable affairs as y’ might think. I hope I’ve seen 
the last one — in these parts.” And Jordan didn’t 
speak again for some time. 

Whitey figured that, after all, maybe all the 
Indians wouldn’t stay tame and dispirited, and 
that maybe there would be “something doing,” 
before the summer was over. 

55 


CHAPTER V 


INJUN 

It was some twenty-two miles out to the 
ranch, but the wagon rolled over the prairie at 
a fast clip, and well inside of two hours they 
were inside the boundary of the ranch, and 
saw, here and there, herds of cattle grazing. 
Jordan called their attention to both the boun- 
dary and the cattle, and Whitey felt a sense of 
elation when he thought that all of this be- 
longed to his father. Also, he felt that, for 
once, he had a yard big enough for him to 
play in without feeling crowded. 

In the distance, loomed the mountains, and 
Whitey promised himself that he would explore 
them some afternoon — they didn’t look very 
far off. But when he spoke of it, Jordan 
laughed and said, “When you pick out the day 

56 


INJUN 


you’re goin’, it’ll be jest as well to start kind o’ 
early — them mountains is more ’n fifty miles 
away.” 

Mr. Sherwood explained to Whitey that the 
apparent nearness of the mountains was on 
account of the clear and rarefied air. But to 
tell the truth, Whitey was frankly incredulous ; 
he had a good pair of eyes, and if he could be- 
lieve them at all, those mountains were cer- 
tainly not fifty miles away! He made up his 
mind that he would test it, sometime, and he 
did. He came to the conclusion that instead of 
being fifty miles away, the mountains were at 
least five times that distance ! 

As the wagon neared the ranch house, they 
came upon a strange figure on a small, but 
very wiry pinto, moving almost directly across 
their trail. It was an Indian boy, apparently 
about the same age as Whitey, and pictur- 
esquely clad in a “hickory shirt,” open at the 
neck and leaving a good part of his breast 
exposed, “buck-skin” trousers, and rudely made 
moccasins. A bow and a quiver containing a 
number of arrows were slung over his shoul- 

57 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


der. The boy had neither saddle nor bridle, 
and seemed to be a part of his horse, guiding 
and controlling him solely by the pressure of 
his knees. 

“Here’s a card!” said Jordan, to Mr. Sher- 
wood and Whitey. “Just look this bird over 
for a minute. He’s a queer duck !” Then rais- 
ing his voice, he shouted, “Hello, ‘Injun!’” 

The boy stopped the pinto suddenly, with- 
out any perceptible movement, and raised his 
hand in salutation, and waited for the wagon to 
come up. 

As they ranged alongside of him, Jordan 
pulled up the horses : “ ‘Injun,’ ” said Jordan, 
“this here is the new Boss,” pointing to Mr. 
Sherwood. “An’ this here is his boy,” and 
Jordan indicated Whitey. “You come over to 
the ranch-house to-morrow ; I’ve got somethin’ 
fer you to do.” 

The boy looked calmly at them, but gave no 
sign that he understood. His face was most 
intelligent and not at all unpleasant, though 
as far as any change of expression is concerned, 
it might have been carved out of stone. His 
58 


INJUN 


eyes, however, were keen and restive, and he 
looked from one to another of the party in a 
shrewd, appraising way. He seemed slight, 
compared to Whitey, even a little scrawny, 
with very thin arms and legs ; but as keen an 
observer of physical condition as Whitey had 
become by this time was not to be deceived 
thereby. A steel wire is thin and attenuated, 
but it is very strong ; and to Whitey’s practiced 
eye those arms and legs were simply bundles of 
wire. 

“Well,” said Jordan, after he had allowed the 
boys to size each other up for a time, “I guess 
that’ll be about all, 'Injun/ So long!” and 
Jordan clucked to the horses. 

The Indian boy raised his hand in a peculiar 
sort of salute as he turned his horse slightly 
and galloped away. Whitey watched him with 
admiration on every line of his face as far as 
he could distinguish his movements; and Jor- 
dan watched Whitey, smiling. 

“Who is he?” asked Whitey, at last, turning 
to Jordan, and Mr. Sherwood also looked an 
inquiry. 


59 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“He’s some kid!” laughed Jordan. “He 
don’t belong to nobody, an’ he don’t live no- 
where! Wherever he builds his camp-fire is 
home! He’s took care of hisself ever sence he 
was big ’nuff to kick a duck in the ankle, an’ 
he don’t ask no odds o’ nobody! Him an’ 
that pinto is jes’ one — they’re part of each 
other. That there hoss knows what thet kid 
is tliinkin’ ’bout ! You talk ’bout yer Centaurs, 
er whatever they was, they didn’t have nuthin’ 
on that pair!” 

“Did he understand what you said to him?” 
asked Whitey. “He didn’t seem to.” 

Jordan laughed: “Oh, he understood, all 
right! He’ll be there the first thing in the 
mornin’, with bells on!” Jordan looked smil- 
ingly at Whitey for a moment, and then added, 
“I kind o’ figured him an’ you’d sort o’ team 
up, mebbe ?” 

Whitey was plainly pleased, and he looked at 
his father inquiringly. “If you are asking my 
permission, Son,” said Mr. Sherwood, “I have 
no hesitation in granting it. No doubt this 
Indian boy will teach you a lot of useful things ; 
60 


INJUN 


and perhaps you can teach him something, too.” 
Then turning to Jordan, Mr. Sherwood said, 
“I suppose the boy is all right, isn’t he? By 
that I mean, he doesn’t take too many chances 
and get into trouble?” 

“I guess he takes chances a-plenty,” said Jor- 
dan, slowly, “but what boy won’t — providin’ 
he’s a reg’lar boy? Er a man either? Y’ 
can’t keep a squirrel on the ground, as the say- 
in’ is. But I’ll take a ticket on that Tnjun’ 
to git out ’n any fix he gits into. He’s a 
pretty wise fish, that kid,” said Jordan; and 
then looking at Whitey, he added, “An’ this 
here youngster don’t look like no mollycoddle, 
neither. Long as they don’t set out t’ dee- 
vastate the grizzly crop an’ they let painters 
alone, I don’t reckon nuthin’ ’s goin’ to muss 
’em up much. Let ’em go to it!” 

This seemed to settle it, much to Whitey ’s re- 
lief; and Jordan did not speak again until 
they drove into the ranch yard. 


61 


CHAPTER VI 


BILL JORDAN 

The ranch-house itself was a long, low build- 
ing, with broad porches on two sides of it built 
on the Arizona style ; and nearby were several 
other out-buildings and two or three large cor- 
rals. Some of the ranch-hands lounged about 
the yard, and took charge of the horses and 
wagon and carried the luggage into the house. 
The rooms were large and airy, with many 
windows; and the coolness was a relief after 
the long ride in the blazing sun. 

After a good dinner, prepared by Sing 
Wong, the Chinese cook, Jordan showed Mr. 
Sherwood over the ranch, Whitey following, 
an interested listener and spectator of all that 
was said and shown. Whitey had lost no 
time in unpacking the trunk that contained his 
6 2 


BILL JORDAN 


rifle, and carried it with him on the tour of 
the ranch, handling it in a way that showed 
that the drill given him by his father had not 
been wasted. 

Bill Jordan examined the rifle and pro- 
nounced it a good one. “The question is,” 
said Bill, banteringly, “kin you hit anythin' 
with it? The gun 's all right, but how good 
kin you pint it?” and he handed the gun back 
to Whitey. 

“Well,” said Whitey, “I don't think I'm a 
very good shot — I've only shot a rifle a few 
times in a shooting-gallery — but if you'll pick 
out a mark, I'll see what I can do.” 

“All right,” said Bill, “I'll do it.” He took 
off his broad brimmed Stetson and handled and 
brushed it fondly. “I think a heap o’ this here 
hat, Son, but I'm goin' to resk you havin' one 
chance at it, purvidin' the distance is reason- 
able.” And Bill walked about twenty yards 
away and hung the hat on a post and rejoined 
them. Whitey prepared to aim, and Mr. Sher- 
wood was about to interfere, but at a sign from 
Bill, he refrained. 


63 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“What’ll you bet you hit it?” asked Jordan, 
banteringly — “the first time you pull the trig- 
ger, I mean?” 

“I don’t bet,” said Whitey, “but I think I 
can hit it.” 

“I guess you’re a pretty level-headed kid,” 
said Bill, “that bettin’ thing ain’t much good 
— I wisht I never’d made no bets,” he added, 
reminiscently. “But I don’t think y’ kin hit it 
— not under present circumstances, I don’t. I 
don’t think that there Stetson is in no danger 
whatsumever !” 

Whitey grinned and took careful aim and 
pulled the trigger. There was only the snap 
of the hammer and no report. Whitey looked 
at the rifle and then at the grinning Bill. 

“What did I tell you!” said the latter, ex- 
ultantly. 

Whitey examined the rifle and then an- 
nounced, disgustedly, “There wasn’t any car- 
tridge in it !” 

“Jesso,” said Bill, opening his big hand and 
showing Whitey the cartridge that he had re- 
moved from the gun when he had taken it into 
64 


BILL JORDAN 


his hands for the ostensible purpose of exam- 
ining it. “Jesso,” he repeated. “I played it 
sort o’ low-down on yo’ so ’s to show yo’ 
somethin’. There was jest two reasons why 
you wasn’t goin’ to let fly no bullet at that 
hat — mebbe three.” 

“What were they?” asked Whitey. 

“Well,” said Bill, “unless you’re in a big 
hurry, always examine your gun ’fore yo’ shoot, 
to see that everythin’ is O. K. An’ another an’ 
more important thing is, always look where 
you're shootin’. If yo’ll jest cast yer eye over 
and beyond that hat, you’ll see there’s two 
cow-punchers a-leanin’ agin that corral — not 
right in line — but in that direction. I admit 
that a cow-puncher ain’t worth much,” said 
Bill, grinning at one or two of the boys who 
stood near watching the performance, “but ’t 
ain’t a good thing to shoot ’em up — ’specially 
with no twenty-two’s! The third reason is 
that’s a mighty good hat — I paid eighteen bucks 
fer her!” 

Whitey readily admitted the first two propo- 
sitions, and said he would be careful anything 

65 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


like that did not occur again; but when Bill 
started to get his hat, Whitey said, “Just a 
moment, Mr. Jordan/' and Bill stopped and 
looked at Whitey inquiringly. 

“You offered to make me a bet, didn't you?" 
Whitey asked. 

“Yes, I guess I did," said Bill, scratching his 
head. “What about it ?" 

“Well," said Whitey, “I always heard that 
if a fellow didn't have a chance to win, then 
he didn't have a chance to lose . That’s so, 
isn’t it?" 

“Well, yes," admitted Bill, “I guess that’s 
right huff." 

“Then," said Whitey, resolutely and with 
conviction, “I think I’m entitled to a real 
chance at that hat !" 

This was a bomb-shell in Bill Jordan’s 
camp. The cow-punchers who had gathered 
arowmd heartily endorsed Whitey's argument. 
“The Kid’s right! Come on, Bill! Be game! 
Give him a chance!" came from all sides, cou- 
pled with loud laughter and slaps on Bill’s 
broad back. 


66 


f 


BILL JORDAN 

Bill scratched his head and grinned in great 
apparent apprehension. “Looks like the ma- 
jority was agin me,” he said, finally, looking 
ruefully at the Stetson and calling to the cow- 
punchers at the corral to get out of the way. 
“An’ that is a good hat, too! All right! Fire 
away! I throws myself on the mercy o’ the 
co't! But say, Son, have a heart! You're 
shootin' at eighteen dollars wo’th o' hat !" 

Whitey took careful aim and fired, and the 
hat flew up into the air and fell in the dust. 
A loud yell went up from the boys as several 
of them ran and picked it up and brought it to 
Bill, who examined the hole in it ruefully. 
“She's ventilated now, all right," he said, “an' 
I reckon it'll be some lengths o' periods 'fore I 
tries to put anythin' over on this here kid again ! 
If I ever do so far fergit myself, I got this here 
ventilator in my skypiece to remind me!", 

It was plain, however, that Bill was tickled 
at the way Whitey had fiandled the situation, 
and “making a hit" with Bill Jordan meant 
something on the Granville ranch. 


67 


CHAPTER VII 


WESTERN AIR AND APPETITE 

The following morning, Whitey was up al- 
most with the sun, but he found the ranch 
already astir. Mr. Sherwood was busy over 
the ranch accounts when Whitey went, in to 
breakfast. It needed very little persuasion on 
the part of the shuffling, grinning Sing Wong 
to induce him to put away a bigger breakfast 
than he had ever had before in his life. Twenty- 
four hours in that mountain air would give an 
appetite to a mummy, and Whitey was far from 
being a mummy. Bill Jordan watched him 
stow away plate after plate of flap-jacks and 
honey in addition to bacon and eggs and milk, 
and finally said with an anxious shake of his 
head, that the ranch would have to do a bigger 
business than ever if Whitey intended to make 
a long visit. 


68 


WESTERN AIR AND APPETITE 


“Mr. Jordan,” said Whitey, pausing to get 
his breath, and accepting with some hesitation 
“just one more plate” of flap-jacks, “I don't 
believe I'll ever want to go back!” 

Bill threw up his hands in a gesture of 
despair, and “allowed as how, if that was the 
case, he'd haf' to raise Sing Wong's wages, 
or else see about getting him an assistant !” 

Whitey laughed and assured Bill that he 
hadn't been very hungry that morning, but 
when he got down to business, he'd show him 
how a really hungry boy could eat. 

“It’s a pity you wasn't here 'bout a year or 
so ago,” said Bill. “We could o' made a clean- 
up with you !” 

“How is that?” asked Whitey. 

“Well,” said Bill, “we had a feller here who 
was some strong as a table-finisher ah' bone- 
polisher, an' we issued a challenge to eat him 
agin any man in the West. He et like nine 
starvin' Cubans, an' then some ! It looked like 
he could spot most anybody three er four good- 
sized steaks an' then win pulled-up. But the' 
was a 'hayseed' blowed in one day an' offered 
69 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


to eat him fer considerate change. They set 
down to make the terms and specifications o' 
the eatin' contest, an' our man says, 'What'll 
we begin with?' An’ the other feller says, 
'Well, suppose we start on hams?’ 'All right/ 
says our champion, 'how many slices V 'Slices !' 
says the other guy, contemptuous like, 'slices! 
I didn't say nuthin' 'bout slices ! I said 
hams !' 

"Well, sir, that settled it! Our man give 
this feller one look an' crawfished right there ! 
He snuk out an' got on his pinto, an' we ain't 
never saw him sence. Now, if yo 'd a bin 

here " and Bill shrugged his shoulders and 

made a deprecatory gesture that indicated that 
a real eater, like Whitey, never would have 
allowed "hams" to faze him. 

"Mebbe we better issue another challenge ?" 
added Bill, tentatively. "Yo' won't need much 
trainin' !" 

"I'm not very fond of hams," said Whitey, 
"but if he'll start on steers I'll accommodate 
him!" 

Bill let out a laugh that shook the rafters. 
70 


WESTERN AIR AND APPETITE 


“I guess you’ll do!” he said as he reached for 
his hat, and regarded the hole in it with a 
grin. 

“Do you suppose 'Injun’ will be here to- 
day, Mr. Jordan?” asked Whitey. 

“He’s bin here more’n an hour, a’ready!” 
said Jordan, “I seen him an’ that pinto of his 
when I come past the corral. I meant to tell 
you ’bout it, but disremembered to.” 

“I hope he’ll wait,” said Whitey. 

Bill laughed: “He’ll wait, all right. Pa- 
tience is an Injun’s middle name ! Time don’t 
mean nuthin’ to them.” 

Whitey got his rifle and started out for 
the corral. He found 'Injun’ just where Bill 
had said he was, waiting patiently, and Bill 
Jordan made it a point to be on hand a few 
moments afterward. Both of the boys were 
diffident, although Injun did not display it. 

Whitey began the conversation : “Hello, In- 
jun,” he said, in a pleasant way. Injun raised 
his hand in his peculiar way of salutation, but 
made no other acknowledgment of the greeting, 
but eyed Whitey’s rifle interestedly. 

71 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


u Want to look at it?” asked Whitey, holding 
it out. "It's a dandy !” 

Injun took the gun and examined it care- 
fully, and Whitey noticed that he did not vio- 
late any of the rules of handling it and he 
evidently knew all about the mechanism. After 
he had looked it over admiringly and tried the 
sights, he handed it back to Whitey without 
comment, but there was no doubt that he would 
have given his right leg to own it. 

Whitey, in turn, examined and admired In- 
jun's bow and arrows, and found that, al- 
though he was undoubtedly as strong as Injun, 
he had considerable difficulty in pulling the 
bow back to its fullest extent. 

There is a certain knack in this which comes 
only from long practice; just as there is in 
all branches of athletic sports or feats of skill; 
and experience is not alone the best teacher, 
but may be said to be the only teacher. In 
this particular thing, the Indian has the added 
incentive of necessity — the ability to shoot an 
arrow far and straight means his very liveli- 
hood; and the loss of an arrow is serious — 
72 


WESTERN AIR AND APPETITE 


not only because he loses the animal or bird, 
but because it takes a long time to make a 
really good arrow. 

A similar condition exists in many other 
branches of out-door craft, and the novice has 
great difficulty in mastering something which 
looks easy. The ability to ride a high-spirited 
horse, or to throw a lariat accurately, or to send 
a canoe through the water swiftly without 
making a ripple or any perceptible noise, or to 
run at high speed over the snow and through 
the thick woods on snowshoes without coming 
to grief, cannot be learned in a day or a month. 
In fact, some people can never learn to do these 
things properly. If a boy or man hasn’t a good 
eye and steady nerves, he can never arrive at 
any extraordinary proficiency. 

It is impossible for two red-blooded boys to 
be together any length of time without engag- 
ing in some kind of a contest; and the exami- 
nations of the rifle and the bow and arrows 
made a very good basis for it, and Jordan 
acted the part of promoter. 

“Let’s see who is the best shot,” he suggested. 

73 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Whitey — (Jordan had by this time learned 
what he termed Alan’s “handle” or “monick- 
er”), you use the gun an’ let Injun use the 
bow and arrows and shoot at a mark-; — say ’bout 
twenty paces off . What d’ y’ say ?” 

“Sure,” said Whitey, agreeing readily. 
“We’ll shoot at your hat!” 

“Not by no means, y’ won’t!” said Jordan, 
grinning. “I got some respect fer that old 
hat yet ! ’T was a new one, yestiddy — till yo’ 
made an old one out’n it !” he added, reproach- 
fully. 

Jordan took a pine board, marked a circle 
and bull’s eye on it, and fixed it against a post 
of the corral about twenty paces away. He 
elected that Whitey shoot first, and the latter 
took careful aim and fired. The splinters flew 
from the board, but it was found to have only 
chipped the edge, and was not within the 
circle; but it was not such a bad shot, as the 
board was hardly more than a foot wide. 

Injun fitted an arrow to the bow and drew 
the string back to his ear. The arrow went 
straight to the mark and sunk itself in the pine 
74 


WESTERN AIR AND APPETITE 


board in the bull’s eye. Injun had not used 
one of his sharp-pointed hunting arrows, or 
it would probably have gone clear through the 
board. Whitey was most enthusiastic in his 
admiration for such skill as this, and, too, it 
stirred in him a determination to emulate it. 
But try as he would, he could not send the 
bullets from his rifle with anything near the 
accuracy that Injun shot his arrows. 

Whitey tried the bow and arrows several 
times, but succeeded in hitting the board only 
once, and with nothing like the force that 
Injun had communicated to the shaft. He 
urged Injun to try the rifle — he didn’t have to 
urge very hard, as the latter was dying to 
try it. And while he obtained somewhat bet- 
ter results from it than Whitey got from the 
bow, he proved that as far as getting his din- 
ner in the woods or mountains is concerned, 
he might better stick to his bow. However, 
there was no doubt that the first competition 
between the boys had resulted in Injun’s favor. 

As Injun handed the rifle back to Whitey, he 
looked at Jordan, and for the first time spoke. 
75 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


"Him shoot !” he said. 

"Who — me?” said Jordan, "I guess I’m a 
leetle mite out o’ practice. Tell yo’ what I’ll 
do, though, Whitey — yo’ done put my lid on 
the bum, an’ Til shoot if you’ll let me have a 
crack at that new hat o’ your’n! Come on 
now, are yo’ game?” said Jordan, taking his 
big Colt forty-five from his holster. 

"Turn about is fair play,” said Whitey, "so 
here goes!” and he fastened his hat on the 
board, making a fair mark. 

Jordan laughed, and turning, he emptied his 
revolver in the direction of the hat in less time 
than it takes to tell it. "By Crackey!” ex- 
claimed Jordan, in a disappointed way, "I don’t 
believe I hit thet air old sky-piece, after all 1 
I’m shore gettin’ outer practice!” 

The boys ran to the hat, and found that it 
was untouched. BUT — Jordan had put a ring 
of bullets all around it, none of them being 
more than half an inch from the brim! 

"I guess you don’t need much practice!” 
gasped Whitey, as he came back with the hat. 
"I wouldn’t have thought it possible for any 
76 


WESTERN AIR AND APPETITE 


one to shoot like that!” he added, in undis- 
guised admiration. 

“Well,” said Jordan, slowly, “mebbe if I’d 
bin a leetle more careful an’ took more time, I 
might have hit it. I reckon, now, Eve done 
th rowed away my chance to get even with 
yoM” 

“You'll never get another chance at my 
hat — not unless you let me put it up a mile 
away — and even then Fd be afraid you’d hit 
it!” 

“I reckon the hat's some safe if thet’s the 
case,” said Bill. 


77 


CHAPTER VIII 


WHITEY LEARNS TO RIDE 

“Look here, Whitey,” said Bill Jordan, one 
afternoon, “kin yo’ ride a hoss? If yo’ an' 
this here Injun is goin’ in cahoots, yo’ gotta 
ride some!” 

“Pm not what any one would call a good 
rider,” said Whitey, “but I guess I can manage 
to stay on. I used to ride the horses down at 
Coney Island, and once or twice when we were 
in the country; but these horses are different. 
They don’t wait till you get your seat before 
they whirl ’round and beat it !” 

“Some of ’em is a mite hasty,” admitted 
Bill, “but we got one or two nice, ol’ hobby- 
hosses in the corral thet’ll be ’bout yo’r size. 
Buck,” he shouted to one of the cow-punchers 
nearby, “go bring thet ol’ sorrel out’n the cor- 
ral — thet is, pervidin’ he’s able to walk. Yo’ll 

78 


WHITEY LEARNS TO RIDE 


probably find him leanin’ up agin the fence to 
keep from failin’ down. This here Whitey 
person is goin’ to set on him fer a spell an’ 
take a nap.” 

Buck took a halter and went into the corral, 
and soon returned leading the sorrel, which 
did not seem to be in any danger of falling 
down if he didn’t have something to lean 
against. In fact, the sorrel was a pretty lively 
animal, and Whitey had his misgivings; but 
he knew that Bill Jordan would not allow him 
to mount a fractious or vicious horse, inex- 
perienced as he was, and he made up his mind 
that he would “go through” with it. If he were 
to spend any length of time in the West, he 
knew that the sooner he learned to ride, the 
better off he would be, and the more he could 
enter into the work and play of the ranch — 
and, indeed, the very life of the West with 
which the horse is so inseparably associated. 
Then, too, he admired and marveled at the 
way Injun rode his pony, and the spirit of ri- 
valry within him made him determine that he 
would not remain outclassed, for any long 
79 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


time, by a boy of his own age in any depart- 
ment of out-door life. 

Bill watched Whitey narrowly, and it is 
probable that if he had seen any exhibition of 
“the white feather,” he would have stopped 
the performance. For he knew that confidence 
is the main thing, and if the boy were timid, he 
might come to grief. But Whitey evidently 
did not have “cold feet.” 

“Buck, you keep the o 1’ rack-o’-bones from 
failin’ apart, an’ I’ll give the kid a hand,” said 
Bill, offering to boost Whitey into the saddle. 

“Let me try to mount myself,” said Whitey. 
“I may be out on the prairie some time and it 
won’t be convenient to come way back here to 
get you to boost me up.” 

“Correct,” said Bill, tickled over the boy’s 
refusal of his assistance. “It’s always well to 
play a lone hand — ef yo’ got the cards to do 
it!” And Whitey swung himself onto the 
horse in as near an imitation of the way of the 
ranchmen as he could. 

Once he was mounted on the sorrel, after 
some elementary instructions from Bill as to 
80 


WHITEY LEARNS TO RIDE 


mounting and keeping his seat by the knee-grip, 
Buck, who had stood at the horse’s head, re- 
leased his hold, and the sorrel started off at a 
lively clip; and if Whitey had not remembered 
his instructions and been prepared for just this 
thing, he would have been unseated. As it was, 
he had a narrow escape, but managed to stick 
on, to the great delight of Bill — and, inci- 
dentally, of himself! Every added minute on 
the horse gave added confidence to Whitey, and 
as he began to get the swing and rhythm of it, 
he already felt that exhilaration which comes 
from riding. Injun, of course, accompanied 
him, and the two boys rode around the big 
corral to which his first essay was confined. 

Bill Jordan watched Whitey with consider- 
able satisfaction; he had taken a great in- 
terest in the boy because he recognized in 
him many of the sterling qualities that go to 
make a man. He had not selected a “rocking- 
horse” for his first ride largely to see if Whitey 
would tackle what seemed to be a difficult un- 
dertaking without fear; and the manner in 
which the boy had “gone to it” pleased him 
- 81 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


immensely. He knew that there was really 
very little actual danger, for the sorrel was 
steady and “honest” and had no vicious traits, 
and there is such a thing as too much “baby- 
ing.” 

Whitey was strong and confident, and there 
are worse things than a fall from a horse. 
Jordan knew, also, that if a rider starts on an 
“easy-chair” sort of a horse, he will learn 
many things which he must eventually un-learn. 
At any rate, the proof of the pudding is in the 
eating, and the manner in which Whitey per- 
formed justified his judgment. It would not 
do, of course, to start every boy in this way; 
but Whitey was an unusual boy, and Bill felt 
that he took very few chances. 

In the next few days Whitey picked up a 
surprising lot of horsemanship and though he 
had a fall or two, when he attempted to do 
some of the “fancy stuff” that Injun and the 
cow-punchers showed him, he had no broken 
bones, and he felt that he was competent to 
ride almost anywhere and keep up the pace. 
Confidence, after all, is the main thing, and 
82 


WHITEY LEARNS TO RIDE 


this Whitey had in large measure. And, what 
counts for much also, he was willing to be 
shown . He did not “know it all.” Any boy 
who starts in a new game and thinks he knows 
it all wdll certainly come to grief. 

The taking over of a new property like the 
big Bar O ranch and getting the run of things 
is no small job; and Mr. Sherwood was kept 
too busy to pay more than casual attention to 
Whitey. Thus the two boys were left almost 
entirely to themselves, although Bill Jordan 
kept an eye on them, as did many of the ranch- 
hands with whom they were favorites. 


83 


CHAPTER IX 

THE BOYS SETTLE A QUESTION 

Not only is it impossible for two red-blooded 
boys to be together for any length of time with- 
out engaging in some kind of competition, but 
usually that competition takes the form of see- 
ing “who is the best man!” No boy likes to 
be out-done at any sport ; and if he is, he usually 
tries to improve in that sport, or casts about to 
find something at which he is better than his 
victor. Whitey was compelled to acknowledge 
that Injun was the better shot — how long he 
would remain better, especially with the rifle, 
was a matter that was up to Whitey — but the 
strongest and fleetest boy in the big Eastern 
school was not going to acknowledge Injun’s 
superiority in other branches of sport until 
he was obliged to do so. 

84 


THE BOYS SETTLE A QUESTION 


As far as riding was concerned, there was no 
comparison at all ; and again Whitey was com- 
pelled to admit inferiority. But he knew that 
his rival had by far the better horse, and had 
practically been brought up on his back; and 
Whitey felt that, given an equal opportunity, 
he, too, could ride as well as the next boy. If 
spending most of his waking hours in the sad- 
dle would accomplish this, he determined to 
put them in that way. 

It must not be understood that Whitey was 
a “poor loser” — such was far from the truth. 
Defeat did not make him “sore” and engender 
hatred in him ; it only made him try the harder. 
He was always the first to congratulate his 
successful rival, and to make up his mind that 
he would strive to equal or excel his rival's 
performance . In this instance, however, he 
realized that he was “playing Injun’s own 
game”; and maybe, if Injun played some of 
Whitey’s games, he would not come off any 
better than Whitey had at Injun’s. 

It was several days before the stiffness from 
riding began to leave Whitey’s muscles and 

85 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


they assumed their usual elasticity ; but he had 
stuck to his saddle during that time, and gradu- 
ally the soreness began to wear away. He also 
had acquired confidence and a knowledge of his 
horse, the sorrel, which he had named Monty, 
and Monty had begun to know him. This is a 
necessity for really finished or satisfactory rid- 
ing; and, on the advice of Bill Jordan, Whitey 
assumed entire charge of the horse, grooming 
and feeding and watering him, and ingratiating 
himself into Monty’s confidence and affection 
in every way that he could until he had estab- 
lished an understanding between them. 

“Ef yo’ an’ that sorrel gets to be pals,” said 
Bill, “Yo’ hes gone a long ways toward bein’ 
a rider. Team-work counts for a heap in that 
game !” 

And so, although it would be a long time be- 
fore Whitey and Monty could ever hope to 
rival Injun and his pinto, yet, for all practical 
purposes, Wlrtey became a fair horseman, and 
the pair made a good combination. He even 
had aspirations toward riding one of the buck- 
ing bronchos that the boys broke in the corral ; 

86 


THE BOYS SETTLE A QUESTION 


but Bill Jordan put a veto on this, and said that 
there would be “plenty of time for thet stuff 
when funeral expenses ain’t so high !” 

On most of his excursions out into the prai- 
rie, Injun accompanied him, and seldom did the 
two boys come back to the ranch without a 
race. At first Injun won regularly; but as 
Whitey learned to ride, he gradually shortened 
the distance by which he and Monty were the 
losers, until it became nip and tuck, and finally 
Whitey and Monty had won two heats in suc- 
cession. 

On the third day, as they came in neck 
and neck, the two boys rode so close together 
that they could touch each other; and before 
they knew it, were indulging in that most haz- 
ardous and difficult game, wrestling on horse- 
back. Injun, who was literally part of the 
horse, finally succeeded in unseating Whitey, 
and the latter hit the ground with a thump. 

Whitey picked himself up, and grinning, 
said, “Injun, you might throw me when we’re 
on our horses, but you couldn’t do it on the 
ground !” 


87 


/ 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


Injun slipped from his pinto, laid aside his 
bow and arrows and his hunting-knife, and ac- 
cepted the challenge without hesitation : “Me 
’rassle,” he said, and began to slip around 
Whitey with a gliding and panther-like mo- 
tion, looking for a hold. Whitey faced him 
alertly, and for a moment nothing else hap- 
pened. Bill Jordan and several of the boys 
watched the contest from the fence of the cor- 
ral. Suddenly, Injun darted in with the swift- 
ness of a rattlesnake making a strike, and se- 
cured a hold on Whitey’s leg, coming within an 
ace of upsetting him. But Whitey was not to 
be upset so easily; he seized Injun’s arm with 
one hand, and putting his forearm under In- 
jun’s chin, forced his head back; and exerting 
his thigh-muscles, he broke Injun’s hold on 
his leg. Quickly shifting his hold from Injun’s 
arm, and slipping his other arm beneath In- 
jun’s, he secured what boys call “an under- 
hold”; and then, half turning, he threw Injun 
over his hip to the ground, heavily. 

But Whitey came down, too, although he was 
on top; for Injun had locked his arms about 
88 


THE BOYS SETTLE A QUESTION 


Whitey’s neck and held on with a grip like a 
vise. They were locked in this way for perhaps 
two minutes, but Whitey knew that it was only 
a matter of time when he could break this hold, 
and he was in no hurry. At the slightest re- 
laxation of the pressure that Injun was put- 
ting on, he could get one of his hands under 
Injun's arms, or he could twist out. He felt, 
at first contact that he was stronger than Injun 
and a good deal heavier, and these are two big 
assets in wrestling, though the smaller boy was 
perhaps quicker. And then, too, Whitey knew 
many wrestling holds, while Injun depended 
entirely upon his natural instincts; this, also, 
was greatly to Whitey’s advantage. 

But there was one thing Whitey had not 
reckoned on, and that was Injun’s nature — 
Injun was getting angry, and Whitey could 
feel that his opponent was trying to strangle 
him, and meant to do him some injury if he 
could. 

“What are you trying to do ?” asked Whitey 
as Injun put on more pressure. “This isn’t a 
fight — we’re not trying to kill each other !” But 

89 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


Injun made no reply but continued to rough it. 

This put a new face on the matter, and 
Whitey quickly slid one hand beneath Injun’s 
arm, and prying it up, he wrenched his head 
from Injun’s strangle-hold in no very gentle 
manner. As he did this, Injun slid out from 
under him and got to his hands and knees in 
a sort of “dog-fall”; and this gave Whitey a 
chance to twist one of Injun’s arms around 
his back and force it upward between the 
shoulder-blades in what is known as a “ham- 
mer-lock,” and quickly turned Injun over on 
his back and pinned his shoulders down. Once 
Injun was “down” and manifestly helpless, 
Whitey jumped to his feet and held out his 
hand; but Injun rose slowly and did not take 
it. 

“Look out fer that Injun,” said one of the 
boys to Bill Jordan, “he’s bad medicine ! He’ll 
do that kid some dirt, first thing y’ know!” 
But the warning was unnecessary, for Bill was 
already on hig way toward the two boys. 

Quick as a flash Injun stooped and picked up 
his knife which he had thrown beside his bow 
90 


THE BOYS SETTLE A QUESTION 


and arrows, and turned to Whitey ; but the lat- 
ter was ready and proceeded to show Injun 
a game that Injun knew nothing about what- 
ever. The Indian, in the wilds, doesn’t know 
anything about using his fists — he fights only 
with a weapon. Boxing is confined, almost 
entirely, to the Anglo-Saxon race, and when 
Whitey’s solid fist landed on Injun’s jaw with 
all the force that Whitey could put into a 
long swing, Injun was a very much astonished 
young man, and he went down in a heap, his 
arms stretched out and his eyes blinking and 
his mind dazed. Whitey stepped on the wrist 
of the hand that held the knife, and took it out 
of the boy’s hand and threw it far from them. 

Seeing this, and knowing that any real dan- 
ger was over, Bill and the boys stopped. 

“Might as well let ’em have it out,” said Bill. 
“They’ll have to settle who’s boss, an’ it may 
as well be now as any other time. That Whitey 
person ain’t no slouch! Did you see the slam 
he handed that kid. 

Injun evidently didn’t think that he was 
licked yet, for he made one more rush, as he 
9i 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


struggled to his feet — and only one. For as 
good a boxer as Whitey, he offered too big a 
mark to miss; and as he came in, head down, 
he was met by a fair and square left-hand up- 
per-cut on the nose ; and when he straightened 
from this Whitey promptly knocked him down 
with his right. 

Then he stood off, waiting for Injun to get 
up; but Injun was in no hurry. He looked 
solemnly at Bill and the boys. When he rose 
slowly to his feet, Whitey picked up the knife 
and the bow and arrows and walked up to Injun 
and handed them to him. Injun took them 
wonderingly ; he couldn’t understand such con- 
duct in a victor, at all ! Then Whitey held out 
his hand. ‘Tm sorry I had to hit you,” he said. 
“But you got mad !” Injun looked at him for 
a long time; then he took the hand. “You 
boss !” he said, as he leaped upon the pinto and 
was gone. 

Bill slapped Whitey on the back: “Son,” 
he said, “I guess you’ll do! I reckon you 
kin take care of yerself most any time! An’ 
you give that Kid jes’ what he deserved — a 
92 


THE BOYS SETTLE A QUESTION 


good lickin’ ! An’ you fought fa ; r — like a white 
man!” 

“An’ ’f I was you,” said one of the boys, 
“I’d keep my eye on thet coyote. He’ll sneak 
up on ye some time an’ see how far he kin 
run thet knife o’ his’n in yer back! I wouldn’t 
trust them birds !” 

“Well,” said Bill, “mebbe y’ better watch 
him fer a spell; but I don’t figger him thet 
way. He’s a game little rooster, an’ gener’ly 
them thet’s game has got somethin’ to ’em. 
Besides, he’s different from the gener’l run 
o’ his tribe. He done said you was boss ! An’ 
I take it, thet means he’s surrendered, an’ ’ll 
walk turkey from now on. We’ll see.” 

“What’s all this about?” asked Mr. Sher- 
wood, coming up just then. “You look a little 
mussed up,” he added, turning to Whitey. 

“Your boy jes’ hed a slight argyment with 
the injun, an’ he convinced him,” said Bill. 
“Thet’s all.” 

“And what was it he convinced the Indian 
of?” asked Mr. Sherwood, smiling. 

93 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“He convinced him of the sooperiority of the 
White race,” said Bill. “Convinced him good 
an’ plenty — right on the nose — an’ other 
parts !” 


94 


CHAPTER X 


A FRIEND IN NEED 

The accuracy of Bill Jordan's estimate of 
Injun was clearly demonstrated very soon 
afterward. Injun did not appear at the ranch 
the day following his “argument” with Whitey ; 
and it must be confessed that the latter missed 
him sorely. The usual sports and occupations 
had lost a good deal of their zest, and life 
wasn't quite the same to Whitey. Injun, ac- 
customed as he was to a solitary and inde- 
pendent life, probably felt the separation less; 
but that he felt it, is certain. 

For on the following day, he appeared early, 
and made no pretense that he had come on any 
other errand than to offer peace. He did not 
bring a peace-pipe for Whitey to smoke with 
him, but he brought what was equivalent to it 
95 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


— a fine lariat which he presented to Whitey at 
the corral with no words and no ceremony, 
simply handing it to him and letting it go at 
that. Like the rest of his race, Injun was not 
demonstrative. 

Whitey accepted the gift in the spirit in 
which it was given and thanked Injun for it; 
and at once proceeded to try it under the 
tutelage of his companion who already had 
acquired considerable skill in its use. 

Bill Jordan had been near at hand when the 
reconciliation between the two boys had oc- 
curred, thinking that perhaps it was not best 
to trust the red boy too far; but the latter’s 
manner soon convinced Bill that things were as 
they should be and that the lad was no “Inj un- 
giver,” and that there was no sinister motive 
behind his seeming generosity. Bill examined 
the lariat closely, and a smile came over his 
face as he asked : “Where’d you grab off this 
here rope, Injun?” Injun looked frankly at 
Bill and said, “Him Pedro leave him.” 

Bill laughed: “He shore did, Injun!” And 
then he explained to Whitey: “This here 
96 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


Pedro person was some complicated into more 
kinds of evil deviltry an' wickedness, includin' 
cattle rustlin', than any six men oughta be. 
He's a half-breed Canuck, bein' called Tedro', 
'count o' him havin' more'n ord'nary skill at 
playin' a card-game by thet name. He had 
most pressin' reasons to go away from here 
right sudden, an' he neglected to take some of 
his belongings — which he prob'ally stole in the 
first place. You title is good, Injun — better'n 
Pedro's, anyhow !" 

'Where is he now?" asked Whitey. 

"Anybody who will tell me that," said Bill, 
"will get a vote o’ thanks all wrote out on 
paper an' tied with a pink ribbon! I'd travel 
some consid'able distance afoot if I figgered I 
c'd meet up with thet pizen hombrey. When 
he left, he didn't leave no forwardin' address — 
the' was a lot o' things cornin’ to him thet he 
wasn’t partic'lar 'bout receivin’. If he's where 
I hope he is, an’ where he oughta be, he don't 
need no overcoat ner blanket! I reckon this 
here Injun mebbe'd like to know where he is, 
too!" laughed Bill. "Injun had consider'ble 
97 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


to do with showin’ up that skunk, an’ he’s some 
sore on Injun — I’ll tell yo’ ’bout it sometime.” 

The subject of Pedro apparently was not a 
very pleasant one to Bill, and he changed the 
subject abruptly. “Lemme see what I kin do 
with thet rope,” he said, and Whitey handed it 
to him, delightedly. Bill took the “rope,” and 
proceeded to show the boys some stunts that 
opened Whitey ’s eyes, especially the fancy ones. 
And as he performed each one, he told the 
boys that “he was plumb outa practice.” 

“I’d like to see you when you are in prac- 
tice!” said Whitey; “but I want to know, Mr. 
Jordan, if those stunts are really any good?” 

“Well,” said Bill, “o’ course the main thing 
to do with a rope is to ketch somethin’ with it, 
an’ I didn’t ketch nuthin’ but mebbe a little 
applause ; but yo’ learn them things foolin’ with 
the rope, an’ the more yo’ fool with anythin’, 
the more yo’ learn about it, and the more con- 
trol yo’ get over it. I wouldn’t say thet the 
time spent in learriin’ them things was all 
throwed away. Mebbe they ain’t so useless as 
they seem.” Bill smiled — that rare, quiet, 
98 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


quizzical smile of his, as he asked innocently, 
“Was yo’ thinkin’ o’ puttin’ in the whole morn- 
in’ an’ learnin’ ’em?” 

Whitey laughed ; he had tried the lariat and 
he knew how difficult it is to do anything with 
it at all. “Not this morning!” he said. “I’m 
going to wait until no one is looking. I think 
I’ll get better acquainted with my horse before 
I tackle a new job !” 

“One thing at d time is good dope,” said 
Bill. “Hev yo’ got so yo’ kin set on that ol’ 
hobby-horse without holdin’ onto his mane?” 

Whitey laughed; and for an answer, he 
vaulted onto Monty’s back, and, followed by 
Injun, he galloped away. 

As the boys rode away from the ranch house 
across the prairie toward the mountains, they 
came upon numerous small streams, some 
of them so deep or so swift that they 
could not be readily forded. Here was 
a new experience — “swimming a horse” across 
a stream. Injun, of course, showed the way, 
and Whitey learned that, if the current is at 
all swift, you must enter the water above the 
99 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


spot where you wish to land, so that you will 
be carried down-stream to the proper place. 
And it was here that Whitey had his first real 
adventure; though had it not been for Injun, 
there is no telling but the story of Whitey 
would have to come to an end right here. 

The boys had dismounted on the bank of one 
of these streams, and Whitey had tied his horse 
in the way Injun showed him. Injun’s pony 
did not require tieing, for the reason that no 
dog ever followed his master with more fidelity 
than did the pony follow Injun. 

As Whitey ran down the steep bank onto 
the rocks that bordered the stream, he saw r , 
not more than ten feet away from him, a rattle- 
snake sunning himself on a flat rock. If 
Whitey had been a Western boy, he never 
would have done what he did, and that was 
to stoop and pick up a stone and take careful 
aim at the snake. In fact, he took too careful 
aim ! Rattlesnakes are born fighters, and nat- 
urally object to being hit by rocks thrown by 
boys or anybody else. And at exactly the same 
instant that White threw the stone, the rattler 


TOO 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


jumped for him — and a rattler is a considerable 
jumper. The rock and the snake probably 
passed each other in the air ! 

At any rate, the rock did not hit the snake, 
and it seemed that the snake did not hit the boy ; 
but for the next few seconds the air was full 
of snake and boy — the boy doing a dance that 
would put to shame any professional. Whitey 
hopped high and far and frequently, but he 
couldn’t get out of reach of the snake. But a 
rattler must coil to strike effectively; and al- 
though this one did, very quickly, he was not 
quite quick enough. 

Injun had come to the edge of the bank and 
had taken in the situation at a glance, and 
he acted instantly. In an incredibly short time, 
he had fitted an arrow to his bow, and when 
the snake coiled, it was the last thing that Mr. 
Snake ever did! Injun’s arrow hit him just 
below his ugly, flat head, an pinned him to the 
ground for a moment, where he writhed and 
twisted for a time and then lay still. Injun 
paid no attention to the snake, but turned 
anxiously to Whitey. 

IOI 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Him bite you?” he asked earnestly. 

“No,” answered Whitey, “guess not — I 
didn’t feel anything. He made me hop some, 
though,” he added, going toward the dead 
snake as though to examine it. 

But Injun was not satisfied; he stopped 
Whitey and made him take off his shoes and 
stockings and roll up his trousers and examine 
his legs critically for any evidences of a bite. 
In the calf of Whitey’s leg, there was an almost 
imperceptible scratch; Injun examined it, and 
at once applied his lips to the wound and sucked 
the blood from it and spat it out; and this he 
repeated several times, while Whitey looked 
on, grinning and wondering what it was all 
about. Then Injun took Whitey’s handker- 
chief from about his neck and tieing it above 
the wound — nearer to the heart — he knotted 
it, ran a short stick through the knot, and 
twisted the stick until the handkerchief was 
very tight. This is the first thing to be done in 
case of snake-bite, as it prevents, in a measure, 
the poison from getting into the circulation. 

102 


A FRIEND IN NEED 


“Gee !” said Whitey, “my leg feels numb — I 
guess you got that thing too tight !” 

Injun shook his head and insisted that 
Whitey get onto his horse and ride back. 
Whitey agreed, though he had begun to feel 
a certain drowsy numbness all over him, and 
Injun had to help him mount. 

It was plain to Injun that Whitey never 
would be able to stay on his horse unassisted, 
and he mounted behind him and held him on, 
calling to his own pony to follow. 

In this manner the two boys came to the 
ranch-house, where Whitey was taken in hand 
by Bill and Mr. Sherwood and the usual reme- 
dies administered, one of them being to pour 
whiskey into the victim. 

The poison of a rattlesnake has a tendency 
to stop the heart, and whiskey is given to stim- 
ulate it — to make it beat faster — a primitive 
remedy and one that doesn’t always work. And 
then, too, it is a question in the minds of many 
people as to which is the worse poison, rattle- 
snake juice or whiskey! 

It was evident that Injun was not altogether 
103 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


satisfied with the treatment that his pal was 
getting; and he leaped upon his pinto and 
dashed away. After a time he returned with 
an old Indian Squaw, who set up her tripod of 
sticks and hung her kettle over a small fire and 
cooked some of the herbs that she had in a 
little bag. A couple of days later Whitey woke 
up and proceeded to get well — thanks to the 
squaw and to Injun! 

And it is quite certain that he never again 
set out to kill a six-foot rattler with a rock! 
If a man hasn’t a gun handy, it is just as well to 
give the rattler his full half of the road — or 
the whole of it, for that matter, if he seems to 
want it. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE CHINOOK WIND 

During the days of Whitey’s convalescence 
Injun and Bill Jordan were unremitting in their 
attendance upon him and in their efforts to 
make things pleasant. Whitey had had a very 
narrow escape, but thanks to the squaw and 
to Injun, their quick and effective methods, and 
to his own good constitution, it was only a few 
days before he felt almost entirely recovered 
and the ill-effects had nearly disappeared. 
Whitey realized that it takes some time to 
many to become a “real Westerner,” and that 
there are many “dont’s” as well as “do’s” in 
the program of life in the foot-hills of the 
Rockies. 

As Bill Jordan sat by Whitey’s chair on the 
piazza, he told the boy many things — not as a 

105 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


teacher instructing a pupil — but as stories that 
should suggest a course of conduct to be fol- 
lowed when certain exigencies presented them- 
selves. One of the cardinal principals that Bill 
laid down was that a boy, or a man, must keep 
his eyes open at all times. Bill maintained, and 
it is probably true, that any boy of good, com- 
mon sense is far safer on the ranch and its 
environs than he would be on Broadway or the 
streets of any big city; but he must keep his 
eyes open and learn to read the signs. Nature 
has signs that are just as plain and legible as 
the signs that mark the traffic and guide the 
citizen in his daily life. A careful person 
doesn’t disregard these signs and rules of con- 
duct in the city; and the careful plainsman or 
mountaineer should not disregard those that 
should guide and regulate him in the Great 
out-doors. 

“Ever hear of a Chinook wind?” asked Bill, 
as he and Injun and Whitey sat on the broad 
piazza of the ranch house, when Whitey was 
able to be up. Injun said nothing, but his 
106 


THE CHINOOK WIND 


face showed that he knew all about the Chinook 
wind. 

“Well,” continued Bill, addressing Whitey, 
“it's a warm wind thet’s liable to come any 
time durin’ the wdnter months; but it usually 
comes along ’bout February er March. The 
snow all melts an’ the sun shines an’ the grass 
begins to sprout an’ the stock commences to 
feed an’ wander away from the home corrals. 
Now this here Mister Chinook V/ind’d be a 
wonderful thing if he was on the level — which 
he ain’t. Not by no means! He’s a shore- 
enough villain, an’ could play the villain’s part 
in any story an’ live up to it ! He come mighty 
near finishin’ me an’ some others once !” And 
Bill stopped and rolled a cigarette, though it 
was plain that the two boys were all eagerness 
to hear the story. 

“It was like this,” said Bill, blowing out a 
big whiff of smoke ; “Old Man Holloway lived 
about eighty mile from Bismarck — had lived 
there fer ten years er more, an’ should hev 
knowed better — an’ he had some business that 
ought of bin did ’long in the winter; but the 
107 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


winter hed bin a hard one an' he didn’t hev a 
Chinaman’s chance o’ gettin’ up to town. ’Long 
towards spring, comes Mr. Chinook Wind an’ 
got in his fine work.” 

Bill paused, and Whitey asked, “What did 
the wind do?” 

“Well,” said Bill, slowly, “it’s a funny thing 
’bout a Chinook wind — it’s fooled the people in 
the West since the beginnin’ of time, an’ ’t 
seem ’s though it’s goin’ right on an’ fool ’em 
till the end o’ time! Must be it’s his balmy, 
soft-soapy ways! You couldn’t never ask fer 
no nicer weather ’n we had fer some days, that 
spring, an’ Old Man Holloway concluded he 
strike out fer Bismarck — never give the 
weather a thought ’t all. He was so sure thet 
he didn’t even hesitate ’bout takin’ his ten- 
year-old boy, Jim, dong with him; an’ y’ kin 
gamble thet if he’d sensed any danger he 
wouldn’t of took Jim — ’cause there was just 
two things thet Jim’s father loved — and Jim 
was both of ’em! 

“They set out with two saddle-horses and 
two pack-horses on the eighty-mile trip, an’ 
108 


THE CHINOOK WIND 


fer forty-five mile everything was fine as silk. 
The night camp was made, an' the coyotes sung 
the’r little songs, as per usual. An’ next morn- 
in', they put away a big breakfast o’ beans an’ 
bacon, and started out on the last lap o' the 
trip. 

“Long late in th’ afternoon things begun 
to happen. Mr. Chinook Wind he'd got tired o' 
bein' nice ; he’d gone courtin' all over thet part 
o' the country, an' he’d let the sun shine on 
the hills, an' he'd laughed — a nice, chucklin' 
little laugh — with all the rivers, an' flirted with 
the trees an’ lullabied 'most everybody to sleep. 
Then he got tired er got a grouch an' didn’t 
want t' play any more! He jes' says, 'Good- 
by! I'm gone!' An’ he let Winter take his 
place. An’ though it lacked three hours o’ 
sun-down, the sun hid hisself an’ it got dark, 
an’ then it got darker; an’ the winter wind 
commenced to whistle — not a nice, clean tune 
of a whistle, but an ugly, threatenin' sort of 
a sound — like a fire-engine whistle in the night. 
It was pretty tol'able dark, but it was light 
enough fer Jim t’ see thet his dad’s face was 
109 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


white. Old Man Holloway wasn’t sayin’ 
• much, but he was doin’ a heap o’ thinkin’. An’ 
pretty soon, things begun to fall through the 
air which was snow, but nobody ever seen snow 
like it before ner since. The flakes was as big 
as plates, an’ they was failin’ so thick thet they 
seemed like a solid wall 1” 

Bill paused, reminiscently, and Whitey 
waited eagerly for the finish of the story. In- 
jun sat impassive — he knew pretty well what 
Bill was talking about. 

“Bime by, Jim thought his father’s horse 
hed bumped into him ; but when he looked up, 
he seen it was a strange man — it was me ! An’ 
the strange man hed five other men with him 
• — they was outriders lookin’ fer stray cattle, 
an’ the fact thet they’d run into Jim an’ his 
father was the only thing thet saved both the’r 
lives. 

“By this time, the wind was blowin’ great 
guns — y’ couldn’t hear yerself think — an’ what 
with the darkness an’ snow, it didn’t look like 
much could be done.” Bill paused. “A horse 
er a steer,” he said, digressing, “never tries to 


no 


THE CHINOOK WIND 


do anythin'; they jes' turn the’r head away 
from the wind an' drop it down an’ wait fer 
the finish! Humans is different. God didn't 
give horses an' steers human intelligence, an' 
humans hev to use the intelligence they hev 
to protect 'emselves." Bill paused again, as 
though he disliked to say what he intended, but, 
after a moment, he resumed. 

“It may seem mighty hard on the hosses 
— what happened — but it was the only thing 
that could be done; an' if folks 'd think it 
over, mebbe they'll realize thet it was the most 
merciful thing thet could be did fer all hands, 
— I means fer the hosses too. They was led 
into a little circle, head to tail, an' each ranch 
rider put his gun between his horse's eyes an' 
fired!" 

It was very plain that Bill could not think 
of this act without pain, although it had been 
a necessary one, and the saving of human 
lives was made possible only by the sacrifice of 
the lives of the animals. It is only as a last 
resort, that a plainsman will ever consent to 
the destruction of his horse. In many great 
hi 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


emergencies, in the desert, the man will deny 
water to himself that his horse may drink; or, 
at least, he will divide with the animal. 

At length, Bill went on : “When the hosses 
fell, they made a sort of rampart er buffer 
against the storm; an’ inside this little circle, 
seven men an’ a boy crouched fer two days, 
with the’r buffalo-robes drawed over ’em an’ 
the snow peltin’ and driftin’ over that. Fer 
two days, the blizzard raged, an’ the seven men 
an’ thet boy stayed right there! Then she 
broke — that is, she got so people could see. An’ 
’bout the end o’ the third day, the seven men 
an’ the boy footed it into Bismarck — an’ each 
one o’ the seven men hed some part of his body 
frozen ! They hed kep’ the boy in the middle 
an’ protected him!” 

Bill rose from his seat and started to go 
toward the corral, but stopped for just another 
word. “I might mention,” he said, as though 
it were a matter of little moment, “to give yo’ 
some idea of a Dakota blizzard, thet when 
them seven men an’ the boy limped into Bis- 
marck at the end o’ the third day, the ther- 
mometer showed fifty-two below!” 

II 2 


CHAPTER XII 


MR. ROSS PAYS A CALL 

The nearest ranch to that of Mr. Sherwood 
was the “Cross and Circle,' ” which lay some 
twelve or fifteen miles to the northwest, toward 
and nearer the mountains, near the left bank of 
Elkhorn River, the ranch-house itself being not 
more than about a hundred yards from the 
water’s edge. Being nearer the mountains, the 
ground upon which the ranch-house stood was 
of rock formation, and was over-shadowed by 
a high cliff. 

While it was a rather valuable property, it 
did not Compare with the Bar O, either in its 
extent, improvements, or in its grazing facili- 
ties. It was occupied by Samuel Ross, who had 
obtained it from its former owner about six 
months before the time this story opens. 

1 13 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


In many ways Ross had allowed the ranch 
to run down. The house needed repair, the 
out-buildings and fences were not well kept, 
and there was no semblance of the discipline or 
morale that prevailed at the Bar O. It had 
perhaps somewhere between five hundred and a 
thousand head of cattle, but they were notori- 
ously ill-cared for and neglected. 

The ranch was not noted for its hospitality 
— in fact, exactly the reverse was the case ; and 
any attempt to establish anything like neigh- 
borly intercourse was frowned upon or rough- 
ly declined. The men kept to themselves in 
a surly, clannish way, even when excursions 
were made into town and “festivities” were in- 
dulged in at the saloon and dance-hall and 
gambling-joint. 

In one way, this was not resented. It is re- 
garded as a man’s right to keep to himself. In 
many parts of the West, even to-day, it is not 
well to start an investigation into a man’s fam- 
ily and pedigree, or where he comes from and 
what his business is. Young readers may not 
understand why this is so. 

114 


MR. ROSS PAYS A CALL 


In the early days, the West was a haven or 
refuge for all sorts of characters who, for rea- 
sons of their own, sought to lose their identities. 
Some desired to escape punishments for crimes 
committed elsewhere ; some were ne’er-do-wells 
or failures who desired to start life over again 
with a clean slate. In the vast confines of the 
West, this was comparatively easy. In the 
case of criminals, the law had difficulty in 
reaching into its remote corners and dragging 
a man back to Justice. In the case of ne’er-do- 
wells and failures, they could start again on an 
even basis with other men, unhandicapped by 
their previous records. Thus it can be seen 
that all inquiry into a man’s past was resented. 
So general did this become, that even those who 
had nothing whatever to hide grew to resent 
questions of this nature. 

And the mistake must not be made of think- 
ing that the West was overrun with people of 
shady records. Nothing could be further from 
the fact. There never has been a higher stand- 
ard of manhood established anywhere in the 
world than that which prevailed, and does pre- 
ii5 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


vail, in the West. And naturally so. No- 
where were, or are, such great opportunities of- 
fered; but the taking advantage of these op- 
portunities required not only brains, but phys- 
ical fitness, courage, and a moral fiber of a high 
order as well. Nowhere in the world have 
people come to themselves — weeded out the 
bad, separated the wheat from the chaff, and 
purged themselves from uncleanness — in so 
short a time or in so effective a way as did the 
people of the West. 

And another thing that the West has had to 
stand: any time a penny-a-liner with an in- 
flamed imagination thought out some lurid, 
impossible tale of blood and thunder and crime 
and debauchery, he staged it in the West. It 
is safe to say that not one in a hundred of these 
“penny-dreadfuls” was ever written by a man 
who had been west of Hoboken, New Jersey! 
As said before, there is more gun-play in New 
York City in one month than there is in all the 
states west of the Mississippi in one year ! And 
we’ll throw in Alaska, too, for good measure! 
Of course, there are “skunks” in every com- 
116 


MR. ROSS PAYS A CALL 


munity, but if there is one climate in the world 
where it is unhealthy for a “skunk” it is the 
climate of the West. They can't “get by” out 
there! Not for very long, they can’t! 

With this matter settled we can get back to 
the story. 

Ross, himself, was a huge man, weighing in 
the neighborhood of two hundred and fifty 
pounds, and was of most forbidding mien. His 
red, bloated face was encircled by a closely 
cropped thatch of hair that came down within 
an inch or so of his eyes, and the lower part 
of his face was covered by a thick, rank growth 
of sandy whiskers. His whole person gave the 
impression of untidiness and neglect, and prob- 
ably the impression did not belie the fact. He 
seemed to have a perpetual grouch, and en- 
forced his wishes by sheer brutality. And even 
in the rough band about him he carried thirfgs 
with a high hand, and brooked no crossing of 
his will. 

After he had taken possession of the ranch 
he had proceeded to carry on the business in 
his ow T n way. The men about him — the ranch 
ii 7 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


hands — were a motley collection ; many of them 
half-breeds, and all of a similar stripe to the 
boss. There was no attempt to conceal the fre- 
quent sprees and drunken brawls that occurred 
at the ranch, and there were rumors that more 
than one “killing” had taken place within the 
walls of the ranch house. This, of course, was 
a difficult matter to prove; and as the alleged 
victim had invariably been a man who was not 
especially an ornament to the community, no 
thorough investigation of these rumors had 
taken place. 

When a scorpion kills a tarantula, nobody 
feels very much like punishing the scorpion — 
on that account, at least. 

But while the outfit at the Ross ranch had, in 
general, a bad name, there was nothing that 
one could put his finger on as being contrary 
to law. Ross paid his obligations — possibly re- 
luctantly and late — but he paid them ; and how- 
ever much suspicion of sharp practice might be 
attached to him, suspicions are not evidence in 
a court of law. And however much his neigh- 
bors may have disliked him, the dislike had 
118 


MR. ROSS PAYS A CALL 


hardly gotten strong enough to warrant a 
visit from a Vigilance Committee. 

One thing had caused considerable comment 
— no visitor had ever been permitted to enter 
the ranch-house proper. Many people had, at 
one time or another, come to the threshold ; but 
that was as far as they ever got. The bulky 
form of Ross, or of some one equally hospit- 
able, blocked further passage; and the con- 
duct of any necessary business took place out 
in the ranch yard. While this may have caused 
comment and aroused curiosity, the fact re- 
mained that “every man’s house is his castle,” 
and unless he has put himself outside of the 
pale of the law, nobody is justified in violating 
it. And thus, it will be seen that Ross, mean 
and underhand, as he undoubtedly was, in many 
ways was well within his rights. 

Ross made his shipments of cattle in the 
regular way, but over a different branch of 
the railroad from that used by the Bar O, and 
as far as any one could see these shipments 
were regular and not disproportionate to the 
amount the ranch should make under proper 
119 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


handling. It is doubtful if anybody had ever 
kept actual tabs on these shipments; and as 
Ross was more than usually “reticent’ ’ about 
his business as well as his personal affairs, lit- 
tle was really known. 

In view of the foregoing facts, it was some- 
what surprising to see Mr. Sam Ross and two 
of his men ride into the Bar O ranch yard early 
one afternoon. They were received civilly, if 
not with any very great cordiality by Bill Jor- 
dan, and after he had made them known to Mr. 
Sherwood, Ross opened up. 

“Hev yo’ all been losin’ stock ?” he asked. 
Mr. Sherwood glanced at Bill, putting the mat- 
ter up to him. 

“Well, yes,” said Bill Jordan, cautiously, an- 
swering for Sherwood, “I reckon we hev had 
some losses — not nuthin’ very much, but some, 
and pretty continual. Hev you?” 

“We hev,” said Ross, emphatically, “an’ 
enough to speak ’bout, too ! But we can’t find 
hide ner hair ner no trace of any rustlers, ’less’n 
it be them Injuns thet’s down toward the Fork. 


120 


MR. ROSS PAYS A CALL 


An’ yet we can’t find nuthin’ to fix it onto 
’em.” 

Bill pondered the matter for a time before 
he spoke. “Thet’s ’bout the same fix we’re 
in,” he said. “We been givin’ them Redskins 
the once-over right consider’ble frequent, but 
we’re pretty well satisfied it ain’t them. An’ 
none o’ the boys has seen any strangers hang- 
in’ ’round. But,” he added, shaking his head, 
in a mystified way, “them steers don’t evapor- 
ate! Somebody is puttin’ somethin’ over.” 

“What are y’ goin’ to do — let ’em get away 
with it, clean?” asked Ross. 

“I dunno,” said Bill, rolling a cigarette. “I 
thought I put the fear o’ God into the hearts 
o’ them rustlers some time ago, but I guess I 
hev bin kiddin’ myself. What are you goin’ 
to do?” 

“It’s got me guessin’,” answered Ross. Then, 
after a moment, he said: “How’s all your 
men? Be they all right? Never had no sus- 
picions on none of ’em bein’ in on the job?” 

“The men is as straight an outfit as ever 
was got together!” answered Bill with a little 
121 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


asperity. 'This here thing of our’n ain’t no 
inside job. How’s yours — know their pedi- 
grees an’ all that?” 

"Same thing with me,” said Ross, "I got a 
lot o’ cracker jacks — honest and straight as 
day — no chanct fer any leakage thataway. I’m 
inclined to put it up to them Injuns. Don’t see 
who else kin be at the bottom of it.” 

Bill was silent for a time; then he said, 
"Well, if ’t ain’t nobody else , it must be them,” 
and Bill smiled, enigmatically. 

"My men says thet they’s one on ’em — a 
boy — hangs ’round here a good deal,” said 
Ross, tentatively. 

"You needn’t give him a second thought, Mr. 
Ross,” said Sherwood, quickly, in defense of 
Injun. "He is nothing but a boy, and he and 
my son occupy themselves in a perfectly legiti- 
mate way. Besides, he has very little to do with 
his own people and is seldom with the rest of 
his tribe.” 

"Well,” said Ross, shaking his head, "I 
wouldn’t put anything past an Injun. He may 
122 


MR. ROSS PAYS A CALL 


be givin’ ’em a lot o’ useful information. If 
he comes up my way, he’ll get short shrift.” 

‘Til answer for him,” said Whitey, butting 
into the conversation with indignation. “I’m 
with him most of the time, and he hasn’t any 
more to do with stealing cattle than I have !” 

Ross laughed. “Mebbe not, Son,” he said. 
“Mebbe not. But I don’t want him ’round my 
place.” Ross and his two men rose. “I guess 
we’ll be pullin’ our freight,” he said; “it’s git- 
tin’ late. Let me know what yo’ all intends to 
do, an’ I’m with yo’. In the meantime, I’m 
goin’ to keep my eye on them red devils — an’ 
I advise yo’ all to do the same.” 

When Ross and his men had ridden out of, 
the ranch yard and were well down the road, 
Bill Jordan looked quizzically at Mr. Sherwood, 
who gave back an answering look of inquiry. 

“What do yo’ make o’ all this?” Bill asked. 

“I don’t quite know,” said Mr. Sherwood. 
“Have you got any solution? I didn’t know 
that there was any significance in the call 
other than appeared on the surface — to warn us 
against the Indians.” 


123 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Well,” said Bill, slowly, “I dunno as the’ 
is — ’cept thet ol’ bird knows ’t ain’t them In- 
juns thet’s gettin’ away with his stock — per- 
vidiri anybody is gettin azvay with it” 

“Do you mean that he’s lying about it?” 
asked Mr. Sherwood in a surprised way. 

“Well,” said Bill, smiling, “I dunno ’s I’d 
want t’ say jest thet, but I do say thet him an’ 
Anannias is blood kin — proba’ly full brothers ! 
He was boostin’ the men in his outfit jes’ now, 
wasn’t he? Well, I know personal, thet the tall 
galoot he hed with him done time in San 
Quentin. He’s named an’ denominated as ‘One- 
Card’ Tucker an’ he’s one bad egg! The’s 
some o’ the rest of ’em thet wont assay up very 
good. Our boys wont hev nuthin’ to do with 
’em — the’s a few Greasers an’ half-breeds 
mixed in with ’em.” 

“You couldn’t be mistaken about the tall 
man being a jail-bird, could you, Bill?” asked 
Mr. Sherwood. And then, smiling, he added, 
“How do you know — were you there with 
him?” 

Bill laughed. “I was,” he said. “I ain’t 
124 


MR. ROSS PAYS A CALL 


mistaken — I brung him there an’ handed him 
over — when I was Dep’ty Shur’ff, out San 
Diego way. He done got a lot o' somebody 
else’s sheep mixed up with his’n. He was one 
lucky guy to get off with four years in prison — 
'Judge Lynch’ come near sett in’ on the case. 
Oh, I know him, all right/’ said Bill, "an’ I 
reckon he must of knowed me! I noticed he 
wasn’t exactly easy in his mind when he set 
there jes’ now. An’ I think I know this Ross, 
too.” 

"Humph !” said Sherwood, reflectively, "that 
kind of association doesn’t speak very well for 
Mr. Ross anyway. What do you think we bet- 
ter do? I understand that our man Walker 
reports that he came across a place where a 
bunch of our cattle had been stampeded. He 
followed the trail, but lost it at the creek — 
couldn’t pick it up anywhere. I don’t suppose 
it could have been a grizzly?” he asked. 

"Grizzly, nuthin’!” said Bill. "It had been 
rainin’ shortly before the cattle was drove off, 
an’ the’ was no sign of a grizzly’s tracks — I 
rode out there an’ seen it myself,” said Bill 

125 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


with positiveness. Then he added : “But the’ 
was horses’ hoofs ! I ain’t heard of no grizzlies 
wearin’ iron shoes — not this summer, I ain’t! 
Besides, if they was stampeded, they’d of scat- 
tered more. Them beeves kep’ together — they 
was drove !” 

“And you think ” Mr. Sherwood paused, 

and Bill nodded his head: 

“Jest a plain case o’ rustlin’ — nuthin’ else to 
it!” and Bill spat disgustedly. 

There was a silence for a moment or so 
while the two men pondered the matter, and 
Whitey waited almost breathlessly for what 
would follow. Here was a mystery — a vital 
ranch mystery — and he was in the thick of it ! 
He had tried to imagine the situation, many 
times, when he had read of such things in 
books; and now he was face to face with it. 
Suddenly the thought came to him that here 
was something for him to solve, and he in- 
stantly determined that he would take a hand 
in the game — though he was wise enough (or, 
perhaps foolish enough) to keep this determina- 
tion to himself. He knew that once he 
126 


MR. ROSS PAYS A CALL 


broached the subject to his father, he would re- 
ceive positive orders to keep his hands off ; but, 
in the absence of those orders, he intended to 
“mix in." In that way, he was going to justify 
himself in his own mind! 

Finally Mr. Sherwood broke the silence: 
“Does the creek run near Ross's ranch?" he 
asked. 

“No," said Jordan, “it's quite a ways from 
his line. His ranch is way down on the Elk- 
horn — this is a branch thet empties into the 
Elkhorn a few miles below where we lost the 
trail. It's too deep there fer cattle to ford; 
besides, there wasn’t no place on the opposite 
bank where we found they’d come out — not 
fer two er three mile down — where she emp- 
ties into the Elkhorn. We went over the hull 
ground careful." 

“Do you think they could have been 
drowned ?" asked Sherwood. “If they went in- 
to the river and didn’t come out, that would 
seem to be the only alternative," he added. 

“Mebbe!" said Jordan, enigmatically. The 
two men rose and walked toward the corral, 
127 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


much to Whitey’s disgust. And though he 
tried to follow and hear the rest, he was not 
able to do so. But strong in his bosom the 
mystery burned, and more than ever he was 
determined to conduct an independent investi- 
gation, taking Injun, of course, into partner- 
ship. 


128 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE LOST TRAIL 

Whitey did not have long to wait for the 
opportunity to put the matter up to Injun, for 
that individual rode into the ranch yard within 
ten minutes after the conversation that had 
awakened Whitey’s curiosity. It took five ad- 
ditional minutes for Whitey to retail to Injun 
what he had heard, and, as usual, Injun thought 
gravely over the matter before speaking. In 
fact, it was Whitey who again broke the silence. 

“Injun,” he said, “do you think you could 
find the place where Bill lost the trail of the 
cattle at the creek, and the place where it 
looked as though they had stampeded?” 

Injun nodded confidently. It must not be 
imagined that because Injun seldom spoke, or 
because of his broken English when he did 
129 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


speak, that he could not understand what was 
said. He could understand any words in or- 
dinary usage, and there was very little in any 
conversation that “got by” him. He not only 
comprehended the words, but he had a remark- 
ably well trained ear, and he could catch and 
distinguish sounds that would have been in- 
audible to most people. There were times when 
his dinner, or even his very life, depended on 
this faculty, and there is nothing like Necessity 
to develop the faculties. 

The same Necessity that had developed In- 
jun's hearing had also developed his sight; and 
although Whitey supposed that he had as good 
eyes as anybody, he found, after a time, that 
Injun could distinguish objects that were all 
but invisible to him. What was a mere speck 
in the distance to Whitey, Injun would declare 
to be a man on horse-back. And by the time 
that Whitey could recognize this to be true, In- 
jun could tell who the man was. 

It is, after all, a matter of training. Prob- 
ably Whitey’s eyes were just as good, in many 
ways, as Injun’s; but they were not trained the 
130 


THE LOST TRAIL 


same way. For instance: when trailing a man 
or an animal, Whitey could see the broken twig 
or the pressed down spear of grass that marked 
the trail — after Injun had pointed it out to 
him. But he could not detect it if he went 
over the ground first. Injun had trained his 
eyes to observe the most minute things, for 
those minute things told him a story that meant 
a great deal to him; and often very small 
things made big sign-posts to guide or regulate 
his movements. Possibly Injun, had he seen 
Whitey read rapidly the page of a book, would 
have thought Whitey’s eyes far more wonder- 
ful than his own — and that is only another 
kind of eye-training. Nature was Injun's 
book, and, perhaps, just as easy to read as 
Whitey’s book — but it takes different eye-train- 
ing. 

The two boys slipped away from the ranch 
without attracting notice. This was not un- 
usual, for by this time Whitey had become ac- 
customed to riding long distances, and he and 
Injun were permitted to go about as they 
pleased. But up to the present time his wan- 
T 3 J 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


derings had been confined to the ranch limits. 

A mile or so from the ranch Injun broke 
away from the trail and struck off to the north- 
west toward the mountains. The branch or 
* 

creek that Whitey had described lay some seven 
or eight miles further on, and in the general 
direction of Ross’ ranch ; and at the steady clip 
set by Injun, they made it without much exer- 
tion in something less than an hour. The 
ride was without incident until they were a mile 
or two from the creek, though still within the 
confines of the ranch, when the quick eye of 
Injun detected two horsemen riding in a direc- 
tion that would bring them across their trail. 

“Who are they?” asked Whitey, when they 
were a long distance away. “Can you make 
them out ?” 

“Him Bar O,” said Injun confidently. 

Whitey had not figured on meeting men 
from the ranch, who might interfere with their 
plans, or, at least, carry back the news that 
they had crossed the trail of the boys; and 
he suggested that they make a detour that 
would carry them in such a way that the trails 
132 


THE LOST TRAIL 


would not meet. The boys turned their horses 
at almost right angles and started toward a 
wooded and rocky region where they would not 
be so conspicuous; but if they thought to es- 
cape in that way, they soon found that they 
were mistaken. It was evident that the ranch- 
men were not to be lost or thrown off the track, 
and that they proposed to find out who was 
riding in that neighborhood. It was either a 
case of run for it, or stand and deliver; and 
after some hesitation Whitey determined that 
the former course, even if successful* would 
alarm the ranch, as the supposition would be 
that they were rustlers, and would invite a gen- 
eral pursuit. So the boys again turned their 
horses and continued in the general direction 
that they had first taken, and it was not long 
before the range riders came alongside of them. 

“What are yo’ two scalawags doin’ out 
here?” asked Walker, who was one of the 
riders in that section. “Yo’ liable to give us 
heart-disease — we was plumb shore we hed 
ketched a pair o’ rus’lers!” 

“We’re just taking a ride,” said Whitey, in- 
133 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


nocently. “It’s a fine day, isn’t it?” he added. 

“Yes,” said Walker, dryly, “it shore is a fine 
day — if it don’t rain. Does yo’r pa know yo’ 
all is gallivantin’ ’round out here? Where was 
yo’ all headin’ for, anyhow — yo’ an’ Settin’ 
Bull, here?” 

“I tell you, Mr. Walker,” said Whitey, “we 
were just looking ’round to see what we could 
see. 

“Oh, them kids is all right, Walker,” said 
the other rider. “Let ’em alone. Thet there 
little red devil knows this here range like I 
know my boots. They won’t git into nuthin’.” 

“Mebbe,” said Walker, undecidedly. “Mebbe 
they won’t — an’ mebbe they will. ’Tain’t none 
too healthy fer them 'babes in the wood’ right 
in these parts jes’ now! Not to my way o’ 
thinkin’ it ain’t. But, howsumever, ’tain’t 
really none o’ my funeral. But lemme give 
yo’ all a tip — keep away from thet Cross an’ 
Circle outfit an’ stay on the range!” 

“Why?” asked Whitey, a little impatiently. 
“What harm will it do to go off the range?” 

“Will y’ listen to thet!” exclaimed Walker, 
134 


THE LOST TRAIL 


laughing. “Ain’t yer own yard big enough fer 
yo’ all to play in? Looks to me like ’ t might 
be ! Anyway, yo’ jes’ take my tip ! An’ as fer 
yo’, young Mr. Rain-in-the-Face, don’t yo’ let 
this here kid git into no mischief, er Bill Jor- 
dan’ll cut off them two ears o’ your’n an’ sic 
the coyotes onto yo’ !” 

With this parting injunction, the two riders 
turned their horses and rode away; but it was 
plain that Walker was not altogether satisfied 
with the situation; and more than once he 
looked back at the boys as the distance between 
them increased. 

Whitey was not the kind of a boy to be 
turned from his purpose by any such admoni- 
tion as this. In fact, the scent of some possible 
danger only added zest to the matter ; and the 
two boys rode forward toward the creek with 
an increased appetite for the business in hand. 

Within a few moments the boys came to the 
edge of the branch or creek that marked the 
confines of the Bar O ranch. The banks were, 
except at intervals, steep and high — some six 
or eight feet above the water— and it was 
135 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


manifestly improbable that the cattle had taken 
to the water from the top of the bank. Injun, 
therefore, followed the stream down; and some 
half-mile below where they had come upon 
the creek, they found a place where the bank 
sloped gradually down to the water’s edge. 

Injun dismounted and examined the ground 
closely, Whitey following, but not able to see 
anything more than that it had been some- 
what trampled. Injun, however, saw a good 
deal more than that. He pointed out the fact 
that on the two outer edges there were marks 
of horses’ hoofs; while in the middle of the 
trampled course leading to the river, the cloven 
hoofs of the cattle were visible — not plainly, 
but after Injun had outlined several of them 
with his finger, Whitey could make them out. 

“Bill was right, then?” asked Whitey, ex- 
citedly ; “the cattle were driven and kept close 
together?” 

Injun nodded, and proceeded with his in- 
vestigations. Leading his pinto and looking 
closely at the ground and the surrounding grass 
and bushes, he followed the trail back from the 
136 


THE LOST TRAIL 


creek. Some distance from the bank the boys 
came upon a place where the ground was bare 
and somewhat softer than that near the water, 
and this spot Injun examined minutely, crawl- 
ing on his hands and knees and measuring the 
horses’ hoof-prints carefully with one of his 
arrows. At length he rose as though appar- 
ently satisfied. 

Although Walker and Bill Jordan had rid- 
den over the ground, their horses had left no 
traces that confused the other marks; for by 
this time the ground was hard and dry, while 
at the time of the stampede it had been wet. 
Whitey looked at Injun inquiringly. “Four 
hoss,” said Injun, holding up four fingers. 

“And how many cattle ?” asked Whitey, anx- 
iously. 

Injun shrugged his shoulders and shook his 
head. “Dunno,” he said, frankly; “Mebbe 
’lev’n ten.” 

“And could you tell the horses if you saw 
their hoofs again?” asked Whitey, the Sher- 
lock Holmes instinct stirring within him. 

“Tell two,” said Injun, holding up two fin- 
137 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


gers ; and then, in response to Whitey’s inquiry 
as to how he could do this, Injun pointed out 
certain slight peculiarities in the hoof-prints 
that were plainly discernible on a minute ex- 
amination. Whitey was delighted at this ex- 
hibition, and he noted well the peculiarities 
for future reference. 

Injun even went a little further than that. 
Two of the hoof-prints were very plainly 
marked; and taking some flat stones, he ar- 
ranged them in such a manner as to cover and 
preserve the impressions of the hoofs in the 
ground and yet at the same time were not par- 
ticularly noticeable. 

Not satisfied with this, Injun then proceeded 
to search for a marked peculiarity among the 
cloven hoof-prints; and succeeded in finding 
one in which there was an unmistakable dis- 
similarity. The right forefoot of one of the 
cattle showed an unusual deformity, being so 
split as to give the impression of toes. This 
print Injun covered in the same manner. In- 
jun had never heard of the Bertillon finger- 
print system, but he had common sense. 

138 



The keen eye of Injun detected another thing 






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THE LOST TRAIL 


Having- followed the trail back to the point 
where the animals were separated from the rest 
of the herd, nothing new in the way of foot- 
prints was found, the nature of the soil and 
its thick carpet of grass making any discovery 
difficult. In fact, most of the marks were 
almost obliterated. 

But the keen eye of Injun detected another 
thing, seemingly slight, but really of the ut- 
most importance in the last analysis. On one 
of the tough branches of a small, thorny bush, 
there hung several woolen threads of varie- 
gated colors ; threads not more than an inch or 
two in length, that had apparently been torn 
from a piece of cloth by being caught by the 
tough thorny branch. An examination of the 
ground near the bush, which was fortunately 
soft, showed that the heel-mark of a man’s boot 
was plainly discernible, and also the four hoof- 
prints of a horse. The heel of the boot had 
been pressed into the ground to a more than 
ordinary depth, and the hoof-prints of the 
horse were on each side of it. Injun pointed 
139 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


this out to Whitey with some evidence of satis- 
faction, but it meant nothing to Whitey. 

“What about it?” he asked; “what hap- 
pened here?” 

“Him loose latigo,” said Injun. “Pull 'em 
tight,” and Injun illustrated how a man 
would dig his heel into the ground as he 
had exerted a powerful pull at a saddle-cinch. 
Injun leaned back as he made the imaginary 
pull, and the thorny branch of the bush swept 
his side and caught slightly in his shirt. It 
was all plain to Whitey now. 

“Say !” he exclaimed, in undisguised admira- 
tion, “Sherlock Holmes has nothing on you! 
He never doped out anything better ’n that!” 

Injun looked blankly at him, never having 
heard of Sherlock Holmes ; but Whitey’s man- 
ner was unmistakably complimentary, and so 
Injun let it go at that. Whitey was about to 
take the threads from the branch, but Injun 
stopped him. He broke the branch that held 
the threads from the bush, carefully peeling the 
bark for several inches down the stem, and put 
it into his quiver. Then he marked the bush 
140 


THE LOST TRAIL 


and the spot so that he could easily recognize 
them again. Then the two boys mounted their 
horses and rode back over the trail toward the 
creek, which was rocky and shallow, and could 
be easily forded without swimming. 

When the boys arrived at the creek, having 
retraced the trail without incident, although 
it was well past three o’clock in the afternoon, 
Whitey and Injun had no thought of abandon- 
ing their quest. After a consultation, they 
proceeded to cross to the other side of the creek 
and to examine the other bank in the hope that 
Injun’s keen vision would be able to discern 
things that Bill and his men had missed. They 
followed the course of the stream down to 
where it emptied into the Elkhorn, a distance of 
perhaps a mile and a half; but, though Injun 
dismounted several times and scrutinized the 
ground carefully, there were no signs that cat- 
tle had landed anywhere along the route. 

Whitey was puzzled. Arguing on the princi- 
ple that “what goes up must come down,” and 
“what goes in must come out, or stay there,” 
Whitey said : 

141 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“If the cattle went into the creek, they must 
have come out somewhere ; or else,” he added, 
after a moment, “they must be in it yet.” 

This admitted of no discussion, and Injun 
did not attempt to refute it. It did not seem 
probable that the cattle were still in the creek, 
and it seemed hardly possible that the cattle 
could have gone into the creek, swum all the 
way down to the Elkhorn, and then continued 
down the larger stream — but there appeared 
to be no other alternative; and Whitey deter- 
mined to investigate even such an improbable 
thing as that. 

In one way, Whitey was in command of the 
expedition, and Injun readily complied with 
any plan of campaign that he suggested. The 
details of the investigation and the deductions 
drawn from them were in Injun's hands, and 
very capable hands they were, too. 

Accordingly it was agreed that Injun should 
swim to the left bank of the Elkhorn and 
follow it down, while Whitey followed the 
right bank, keeping as nearly parallel as pos- 
sible. The Elkhorn was not more than a hun- 
142 


THE LOST TRAIL 


dred yards wide, and the two boys could call 
to each other easily and communicate any finds 
that either made. This they proceeded to do. 

The investigation was greatly simplified, at 
least on Whitey’s side, by the fact that the 
bank of the Elkhorn offered very few possible 
landing-places, being high and steep, and there 
were few places that needed examination at all. 
On Injun’s side, however, the ground required 
more careful scrutiny; but on neither side did 
anything develop. And before they were aware, 
they were almost at the Ross ranch. 

The ranch lay just around a bend in the 
Elkhorn, on the left bank, and where the river 
was indented by a small bight, or pointed bay, 
that extended for several yards into the ranch 
property. The left bank of this bight was 
high above the water, and thickly covered by 
vines and shrubs that grew down to the water’s 
edge, and many of them overhung the water, 
which was shallow at that point. 

Once the boys were in sight of the ranch, the 
cautiousness of Injun manifested itself. He 
knew that the Ross outfit were none too par- 
143 


e 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


tial to him, and he also knew that it would 
be unwise, if not unsafe, for him to be found 
so near to it. And riding down into the water, 
where the high bank concealed him from view, 
he rode cautiously around the bend of the 
bayou. Whitey, on the opposite bank, watched 
Injun’s movements closely; and finally, in re- 
sponse to a signal, swam his horse across and 
landed under the high bank near Injun, whom 
he found examining the narrow shore or beach 
of the bayou under the high bank. The sur- 
face of the ground, which was sandy and cov- 
ered with pebbles, had been undoubtedly dis- 
turbed recently; but it was seemingly impos- 
sible to tell by what. There were deep marks as 
though heavy planks had been pushed against 
it, and the ground about showed the hoof- 
marks of horses. These also were discernible 
in the mud under the shallow water. On the 
small beach it looked as though an attempt had 
been made to obliterate these marks, for the 
sand showed evidences of having been recently 
turned over in places. 

Dismounting from his horse, Injun pulled 
144 


THE LOST TRAIL 


aside the branches and bushes but nothing was 
revealed save the flat, gray face of the rock of 
the bank. Injun looked keenly at this for a 
moment ; and then putting out his hand, found 
that it yielded to his touch! The rock wasn’t 
rock at all ! And going to one side, he found 
that what seemed to be rock was nothing more 
nor less than a heavy canvas, painted a dark 
gray to resemble rock, and smeared with mud 
and pieces of grass and leaves! So skillfully 
was this done, that it required close scrutiny 
to reveal it; and from a distance, even of ten 
or fifteen feet, it would never have awakened 
the slightest suspicion! 

Lifting the edge of the canvas, Injun dis- 
closed an opening in the face of the cliff nearly 
six feet high and of about the same breadth, 
and into this the two boys crept cautiously, 
leaving their horses on the narrow strip of 
beach near the entrance. 

The interior of the cavern or tunnel was 
quite dark; but Whitey had been in the West 
long enough to learn that one of the most 
necessary things in a plainsman’s equipment 
'145 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


is matches. Injun, of course, had his flint and 
steel and tinder, but they would have neces- 
sitated the lighting of a torch, which would 
have been dangerous on account of the chance 
of discovery. They proceeded slowly along the 
tunnel, Injun examining it carefully, and a few 
yards from the entrance they found a number 
of very heavy planks so fashioned that they 
could be linked together to form a rude raft. 
The logs were wet and water-soaked. And the 
mystery of how the cattle got out of the river 
was no longer a mystery! 

Whitey’s first idea was, that having discov- 
ered this much, and thus definitely fixing the 
manner and means of the disappearance of the 
cattle, it would be a good thing to make a get- 
away while there was yet time, and report their 
discoveries to the Bar O outfit; and it w r ould 
have been well for him if he had followed this 
plan. But Whitey was nothing if not coura- 
geous, and he was also impelled by an intense 
curiosity to fathom the rest of the mystery. If 
he could locate and identify the lost cattle, 
which would be easy on account of the brand, 
146 


THE LOST TRAIL 


and possibly the one with the deformed hoof 
would be among them, his investigations would 
then be complete. But unfortunately for the 
success of this plan, there were certain difficul- 
ties in the way which neither Whitey nor Injun 
could foresee; and certain contingencies hap- 
pened which had their fortunate side as well as 
their unfortunate. 

The two horses had been left untied on the 
narrow strip of beach outside the tunnel 
entrance. Left alone, Injun’s cayuse would 
have stood there for many hours. But Whitey’s 
horse, Monty, was not, as yet, so well trained ; 
and after a time began to be restless. The spot 
was not exactly an attractive one in which to 
stand for an indefinite time, and Monty finally 
retraced his steps around the bend and out of 
the bayou where there were grass and sunshine. 
With such an example, the pinto slowly fol- 
lowed ; but scarcely had Monty come around the 
bend when a rattler that was sunning himself 
on the rocks sounded his warning, and Monty 
gave a frightened snort and proceeded to “beat 
it” away from there in a panic. 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


When a horse is badly frightened and starts 
to run in a panic, the first thought that comes 
into his head is to get home as fast as he 
can ; and Monty proceeded to put this idea into 
execution. He tore along the bank, and at the 
proper place swam the stream, and was soon 
well on his way back toward the Bar O ranch 

By the time Injun’s horse got around the 
bend the rattler had disappeared, and there- 
fore he was not thrown into any panic, as 
Monty had been. Monty was not in sight 
either ; and so, although he probably wondered 
what had become of his pal, he climbed the 
bank and proceeded to graze on the sweet grass', 
plainly visible from the windows of the Ross 
ranch ! 

Meanwhile, the two boys went cautiously 
along further into the tunnel, which appeared 
to be of natural origin, as though a stream 
had eaten its way through the porous rock in 
search of an outlet — a sort of natural drain. 
The hole, originally small, had been enlarged 
by digging up to its present size. There was a 
continual rise in the floor of the tunnel as it 
148 


THE LOST TRAIL 


receded from the water, and the floor of it 
was wet with a very small stream trickling 
down toward the entrance. 

The boys had proceeded perhaps a hundred 
feet from the entrance, when they came upon 
a sudden enlargement in the tunnel which took 
almost the form of a large room. The top or 
ceiling was so high as to be invisible to them, 
and the place itself was evidently a natural 
cavern. Whitey lighted a match, and its flare 
disclosed the fact that the chamber was some 
twenty-five or thirty feet across, and in it, 
among other things, were several large bar- 
rels and packing-cases. 

As the boys started to cross the room, keep- 
ing a little to the side, the match went out and 
they were again enveloped in darkness so thick 
that they could feel it. Whitey was about to 
scratch another match, but he felt Injun’s hand 
clutch his arm and draw him still further 
toward the side of the chamber. Whitey had 
heard nothing, and knew of no reason for this; 
but he was quite willing to be guided by Injun’s 
superior senses. 


149 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


In a few seconds, however, he heard foot- 
steps coming toward them from the upper end 
of the chamber, and caught a faint glimmer of 
light. Injun hastily and noiselessly pulled 
Whitey toward one of the boxes that were scat- 
tered about that side of the chamber, and be- 
hind this the two boys crouched as the sound 
of the footsteps indicated that some one was 
coming in their direction. Whitey's heart wa§ 
beating so loud that he felt sure that any one 
who came near him must surely hear it. A mo- 
ment afterward this was probably true in In- 
jun's case, also — and for a good reason ! 

Into the far end of the chamber came the 
light of a lantern, and as it illuminated the 
space about the man who carried it, Whitey 
could see that he was dark-haired and swarthy, 
though rather under-sized, but very wiry. He 
was clad in a multi-colored Mackinaw jacket, 
with the regulation cowman's trousers and 
boots, with his revolver in the holster at his 
side. The man came directly toward the boys 
and Whitey instinctively grasped the handle 
of the little pearl-handled .22 that Atherton 

150 


THE LOST TRAIL 


had given him and which he had always car- 
ried in the hip-pocket of his trousers. True, 
he had his rifle with him; but he felt that 
at close quarters the revolver would be more 
valuable. (Even a .22 fired at close range can 
be annoying; besides, he might throw it at the 
man and do more damage than if he shot him 
with it!) 

The man came directly to the box behind 
which the two boys were hidden and it seemed 
as though discovery was inevitable; had he 
lifted the lantern high, it could not have been 
avoided. But he placed it onto the floor and 
reached down into the box and took out several 
objects which the boys afterward saw to be 
bottles of liquor of some kind. He was so 
close that either Injun or Whitey could have 
put out a hand and touched him, and they could 
hear his heavy breathing, for plainly he was 
partially drunk. Each of the boys held himself 
tense, and was ready for a vigorous defense, 
and against the knife that Injun gripped in his 
hand, to say nothing of the popgun that Whitey 

151 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


held, the man, unprepared as he was, would 
probably have fared badly. 

But at length, when he had taken out several 
bottles, he picked up the lantern from the floor 
and started to retrace his steps. Suddenly he 
stopped and came back near to the box. Setting 
down the bottles, he picked up one of the 
burned matches that Whitey had thrown on 
the floor of the chamber and examined it care- 
fully. Again the boys held their breath, and 
Whitey upbraided himself for his carelessness. 
After examining the match for a moment or 
two, the man took up the lantern and looked 
about the chamber. He started as though to 
go out toward the entrance, but thought 
better of it; and after another cursory look 
about him, he went away as he had come. The 
sound of his foot-falls became fainter and 
fainter; the light from the lantern grew dim- 
mer and dimmer ; and at last, the foot-falls died 
away entirely, and complete darkness enveloped 
them again. For a moment they crouched in 
silence; then Whitey felt Injun's hand grasp 
his arm, and heard Injun whisper into his ear: 

“Him Pedro l” he said. 

152 


CHAPTER XIV 


CROWLEY 

In the living room of the Ross ranch were 
congregated almost the entire outfit. Around 
the centre-table a game of cards was in prog- 
ress, and the fortunes of the game had reduced 
the number engaged in it to four. Some six or 
seven of the other men either looked on or 
were sprawled about the place in various stages 
of intoxication ; and the number of empty bot- 
tles that littered the place gave evidence that 
it had been quite a long session. 

Ross was at the table, and the big stack of 
chips in front of him indicated that he was 
the big winner. His shirt was open half way 
down to his waist and his broad, hairy chest 
was exposed. His sleeves were rolled up to his 
elbows, and if anything, his hair and beard 
153 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


were more unkempt than usual, which is saying 
a good deal. Altogether, with his bloated face 
and bleary eyes, he did not make a very pleasant 
picture. 

Crowley, his foreman, the tall man whom 
Jordan had recognized as the “jail-bird” that 
he had delivered at San Quentin, sat opposite 
to Ross, and he, too, had considerable money in 
front of him. The other two men in the game 
were about “down to the cloth,” and were just 
“hanging on the ragged edge of nothing.” As 
Pedro entered the room with the bottles, Crow- 
ley raked in a sizable pot, getting a call from 
one of the losers. 

“Jes’ like takin’ candy from children,” 
sneered Crowley, as he looked at the two con- 
temptuously. “Yo’ pikers is ’bout six ounces 
lighter’n a straw hat ! Where ’d yo’ all learn 
this game, anyway?” 

“I guess the school I learnt at,” said one of 
the men, significantly, “was some short o’ 
knowin’ some o’ the sleight-o-hand work I done 
seen yo’ pull! Dealin’ seconds wasn’t on the 
bill-o’-f are !” 


154 


CROWLEY 


For an answer, Crowley grabbed a bottle and 
was about to caress the man with it when Ross 
reached over and seized his arm in a powerful 

grip- 

“Cut it out!” shouted Ross; “Fm short- 
handed now, an’ besides I don't want to hev to 
explain no more disappearances !” 

“Let the big stiff throw it, Ross! Fll give 
him a receipt fer it — I got an ace in the hole 
myself this time," and he fingered the butt of 
his revolver. 

Whether the affair would have stopped there 
or not is a question, had not Pedro entered 
with the bottles ; but, at any rate, the two bel- 
ligerents subsided, and confined themselves to 
growls and evil glances at each other. In a 
few moments the game seemed about to break 
up — an( l Ross had accumulated most of the 
money ; and what he did not win fell to the lot 
of Crowley, the foreman. One way to run a 
ranch is to pay off the men and then win the 
money back at stud-poker ! 

Ross rose from the table, after he had cashed 
in the checks of the foreman and had pocketed 
155 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


his own winnings. As he stood up, his eyes 
caught sight of Injun’s pinto cropping the 
grass in the yard of the ranch near to the 
river bank. Ross stared intently at the horse, 
and several of the men followed his glance. 

“What hoss is that out there? Who let him 
out ’n the corral ? Some o’ yo’ rum-hounds go 
git him an’ put him back. Don’t seem to me 
I recconnize that skate nohow.” 

One of the men rose and went out to the 
pinto, and after some trouble succeeded in 
catching him. The man examined the horse, 
and then started toward the ranch house with 
him. The man’s manner indicated that some- 
thing was amiss, and Ross and Crowley went 
out to meet him. 

“This here ain’t none of our hoss,” said the 
man, looking at the animal critically. “Looks 
to me like the one I seen that little red skunk 
ridin’ with thet there Sherwood kid. ’Spose 
them young hellions bin snoopin’ ’bout here?” 

Ross uttered an oath, and Crowley examined 
the horse: “The’ ain’t no doubt in th’ world 
thet’s thet little red devil’s hoss. But I don’t 
156 


CROWLEY 


figger no cause t’ git excited. He goes mean- 
derin’ ’round most any place, though I never 
knowed him to stick his nose in ’round here 
before. The’ ain’t no chanct of his gittin’ into 
the ranch house — not in a thousand years ; an’ 
if he’s ’round here, he’s got a hell of a walk 
back to where he belongs! Hey! You!” he 
called to the men in the ranch house ; and they 
came out slowly and indifferently; “take a look 
’round an’ see if yo’ kin find hide er hair o’ 
thet little red varmint. Thet’s his hoss, an’ 
he can’t be far off. When yo’ git him, bring 
him to me — I’ll make a 'good Injun’ out’n him !” 

Several of the men went to the corral, and 
mounting their horses, rode around the ranch 
property in different directions. Ross turned 
to Crowley: 

“You may not think there’s any cause to git 
excited, but I do ! Jes’ now’d be an awkward 
time fer people t’ come investigatin’ ’round 
here. We got t’ git them steers branded and 
out o’ this pronto. It’s got to be done to-night ! 
Take some o’ the boys an’ go down an’ git 
157 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


busy. I’ll be down in a minute. This ought 
’a’ bin done before!” 

Ross and his foreman turned and entered the 
house; and the foreman, designating several of 
the hands to follow him, started for the stairs 
that led to the cave below. 




158 


CHAPTER XV 


THE CAVE GIVES EVIDENCE 

For several moments after Pedro had gone 
out of sight and hearing, the two boys remained 
crouched behind the box in the subterranean 
chamber; it had been an alarming experience 
and they did not recover from it at once and 
needed time to take a long breath and to get 
their disturbed senses together. The situation 
was far more serious for Injun than for 
Whitey, for there is no doubt that if Pedro 
had discovered their whereabouts, Injun would 
have stood a small chance of escaping with 
his life, unless the boys had taken the initiative 
and killed or disabled Pedro before he got a 
chance to wreak his vengeance on the Indian 
boy. 

“Whew!” whispered Whitey. “That was a 
159 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


narrow escape! If he’d seen us, I guess we’d 
have had to fight!” Injun nodded, but said 
nothing. He knew full well the danger he had 
been in. 

Pedro would have killed Injun with as lit- 
tle compunction as he would have stepped on 
a spider, and with far greater satisfaction. It 
had been largely through Injun’s efforts that 
Pedro had been exposed, and Pedro was not 
the sort of man that forgot or forgave a debt 
of this kind. And it is probable that Whitey 
would have been in a hazardous situation, too. 

However, now that this immediate danger 
was passed, the next thing was to determine 
what was the best thing to be done. The more 
Whitey thought it over, the more determined 
he was to go on with the adventure; he reas- 
oned that if the finding of the burned match 
had awakened Pedro’s suspicions to any great 
extent, he would have made an immediate 
search. Whitey knew also that it was getting 
toward night, and, in all probability, the ranch 
hands would be moving about the yard for some 
time engaged on the evening chores ; and that 
160 


THE CAVE GIVES EVIDENCE 


to come from their concealment at this time and 
attempt to ride away would be more dangerous 
than to remain until after dark and get away 
under the cover of the darkness. 

“I guess we might as well go ahead and see 
what there is in here/’ said Whitey, and Injun 
offered no objection. “It’s more dangerous to 
go out now than it is to stay,” added Whitey. 

As long as it was best to stay in the chamber, 
they might as well explore it and possibly make 
more definite discoveries. 

Accordingly, the boys came cautiously out 
of their concealment and by the light of an 
occasional match made their way further into 
the recesses of the cave under the ranch house. 
They found the chamber far more spacious 
than it had seemed at first, though it varied in 
width considerably, and there were several 
angles and turnings. 

At one point there was a flight of wooden 
steps, evidently leading to the ranch house 
above, and Whitey knew from his observation 
of the exterior location, that they must have 
proceeded under ground for more than a hun- 
161 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


dred yards. Passing the steps, their noses told 
them that they were near cattle, and there was 
also the unmistakable shuffling sound that a 
number of cattle make when closely confined. 
Cautiously they felt their way along the wall 
— the last match had disclosed that they were 
approaching a turn — and came to a place where 
the chamber perceptibly broadened again, and 
by sound and by smell the boys knew that they 
were close upon the cattle. 

It was with a feeling of dismay that Whitey 
realized that he had but three matches left! 
And though he had not been wasteful of them, 
he felt that he had, perhaps, jeopardized their 
chances of discovery, and even of escape, by 
a too lavish use of them. It would have been 
most difficult to make their way back to the 
entrance. However, it was most necessary to 
light one here, and Whitey scratched one, tak- 
ing great care to shield its flame against any 
draught. 

“Here goes!” said Whitey. “We’ve got to 
use our match here !” 

The flare of the match revealed an extensive 
162 


THE CAVE GIVES EVIDENCE 


underground corral, fenced off with heavy tim- 
bers ; and in this enclosure were some twelve or 
fifteen cattle. As Whitey held the match high- 
er, Injun slipped forward and examined the 
beast that stood blinking at him only a few 
feet away. 

“Look!” said Injun, as excited as he ever 
permitted himself to be, and Whitey peered at 
the steer. 

The right forefoot of the animal was badly 
split, exactly corresponding to the peculiar 
hoof-print that he had discovered near the 
creek; and on the flank of this and other ani- 
mals was the plainly distinguishable brand of 
the Bar O ! 

As the match flickered and went out, the 
boys heard the voices of men as though coming 
from a door that had been suddenly opened, 
and foot-steps were plainly audible coming 
down the stairs behind them. 

“Somebody’s coming !” whispered Whitey as 
Injun clutched his arm. They must seek a hid- 
ing place at once, for the coming of the men in 
163 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


their rear cut off any retreat by way of the tun- 
nel. 

At the side of the corral was a rude plat- 
form or rick, upon which was piled a quantity 
of hay for the cattle, and with one accord the 
two boys darted toward this, but the momen- 
tary glance that they had given the spot, during 
the brief flicker of the match, had been insuffi- 
cient for Whitey, at least, to get his bearings 
with accuracy; and even at the expense of the 
possibility of disclosing themselves, he was 
compelled to light another of the precious 
matches. The men were as yet some distance 
away, and around one of the turns, and he 
concluded that the light of the match would not 
be perceptible to them. It was not — neither 
was it perceptible to either Whitey or Injun! 
It was one of the sort of matches that are 
made to sell, not to burn; and after a brief 
and non-illuminating flame it went out! 

“What do you think of that luck?’' whispered 
Whitey, angrily. “There's nothing else to do 
but use the last one !” 

There was plenty of time to light another 
164 


THE CAVE GIVES EVIDENCE 


one, but in his excitement Whitey dropped the 
last match he had upon the floor, and to search 
for it would have been hopeless ! Alone in the 
dark and no matches ! 

Injun did the best he could by grabbing 
Whitey’s hand and leading him to the hay-rick, 
and into this, with as little noise as possible — it 
seemed to Whitey that they made a fearful 
racket — the two boys climbed, uncertain of 
their way and ignorant as to how much conceal- 
ment the place really afforded. “Any port in a 
storm,” and there was certainly a storm com- 
ing! 

Scarcely had the two boys arranged them- 
selves in the hay, Whitey taking care that he 
had a slight opening through which he could 
observe what took place in the room, when 
Crowley and four of the ranch hands entered. 
Three of the men carried lanterns, and by 
their dim glow Whitey could see that the 
chamber was of vast extent, and plainly of 
natural origin. 

Crowley and the men lost little time in get- 
ting to work ; and in a moment a fire was going 

165 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


in the small furnace and the branding-irons 
were heating. 

“Get a move on !” said Crowley, impatient at 
some small delay. “This business ought V bin 
done days ago! The Boss is sore — tho’ he 
ain’t got no kick cornin’, really, as he’s bin 
lushin’, same as the rest of us. Them cattle 
ought ’a’ bin branded and on their way long 
ago.” 

In a moment, the iron was hot, and three of 
the hands proceeded to drag one of the steers 
out of the corral and it was thrown to the 
floor. Crowley took the branding-iron, and ap- 
plied it with extreme care. Although Whitey 
could not make out just what was done, this is 
what happened : The steer had been previously 
branded, — O. The branding-iron that Crow- 
ley used was marked I. ; and when it was ap- 
plied exactly over the previous brand, the re- 
sult was +0. A very simple process, there- 
fore, changed the brand of “Bar O” into “Cross 
and Circle.” 

One after another the cattle were dragged in 
and re-branded, until twelve in all had been 
1 66 



“It’ll bother them Bar 0 people consider’ble to claim them steers 

now,” he said 








THE CAVE GIVES EVIDENCE 


“counterfeited.” In the midst of this process 
Ross appeared, and examined critically each of 
the re-branded animals, and expressed satis- 
faction at the completeness and perfection of 
the job. 

“It'll bother them Bar O people consider’ble 
to claim them steers now,” he said. “But jes’ 
the same, we better get ’em off ’long towards 
mornin’, with the others, an’ ship ’em as soon 
as we kin. It’s takin’ some risk, with them 
fresh brands, but I dunno ’s anybody is goin’ 
to make a holler. The main thing is to get 
’em away from here. I don’t jes’ like thet 
Injun’s hoss bein’ out there; but I reckon ’f he’s 
’round, the boys’ll round him up, an’ no harm’ll 
be did.” 

“Hain’t the boys seen nuthin’ of him yet?” 
asked Crowley. 

“None of ’em ’s come back,” said Ross, with 
an oath ; and it was apparent that he was not 
at all comfortable. All this was plainly audi- 
ble to Whitey and Injun, and as may be 
imagined, their feelings were not very com- 
fortable, either; but they lay perfectly still, 
167 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOY,S 


their nerves tense, and awaited developments. 

Scarcely had Ross spoken,, when some one 
was heard approaching through the tunnel over 
the same route that the boys had taken to en- 
ter the cave, and in a moment one of the 
ranch hands that had gone in search of Injun 
appeared. In answer to Ross's inquiry, he 
said, “I guess there was only one o' them boys, 
for the' was only one hoss — the Injun's, but we 
can’t find hide ner hair o' that little red devil. 
Don't seem to be 'round no place, though we 
bin over every foot of the yard an' corrals. I 
jes' come through the tunnel — somebody must 
'a' forgot to close the gate — an' on the way 
through I found these here burnt matches." 
And he exhibited several of the matches that 
Whitey had thrown away. “Don’t look like the' 
's the same kind we burn, an' besides, when any 
of us comes down here we git lanterns. What 
do yo' make of 'em ?" 

The men crowded about the fellow and 
looked at the match-ends. Crowley was the 
first to speak: “It's a cinch them wasn't 
throwed there by none of our boys. The’ ain’t 
1 68 


THE CAVE GIVES EVIDENCE 


a match like them in the place — them's safety- 
matches, an' we never had none o' them kind 
here !” 

Ross confirmed this statement and was fu- 
rious that the gate in the tunnel had been left 
open, but it was useless to rave about that now, 
and he looked searchingly around the cave. “Ef 
that red devil has managed to get into this 
place," he said, savagely, “you can lay a good 
bet he'll never get out!" Then turning to the 
men, he gave the orders: “Here, you! Never 
mind them steers. They're all branded any- 
how. Shet that tunnel gate and block up the 
entrance! Then go through an' search every 
crack in this cave an' don’t let that young skunk 
get away on yer life!" 

The men at once began the search. Ross, 
himself, came directly toward the hay-rick with 
the evident intention of investigating it, while 
the other men began to look into and behind the 
various boxes and barrels that littered the spa- 
cious floor. 

Realizing that escape was impossible, 
Whitey did a very brave thing; and, indeed, the 
169 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


wisest thing he could have done. He knew 
that if both he and Injun were captured, there 
would be little chance to get word to the Bar O 
outfit, or to any other source of aid. He 
gathered from the talk that Ross and his men 
suspected the presence of but one intruder, as 
only Injun’s horse had been found; and if one 
of them were found, the ranchers would prob- 
ably be satisfied with that and make no further 
search for a second. And so, before Ross 
could reach the hay-rick, Whitey squirmed out 
to the edge of the hay, and looked into the 
astonished face of the rancher. 


170 


CHAPTER XVI 


whitey is missing 

Dusk had begun to settle upon the Bar O 
ranch when the riderless Monty came into the 
ranch yard and trotted up to the corral gate. 
The absence of the boys had not been noticed, 
for it was no unusual thing for them to remain 
out even long after dark. But when Bill Jor- 
dan saw Monty come in alone, he at once sent 
for Mr. Sherwood, who came in haste, and the 
other members of the outfit, among whom were 
Walker and his companion, gathered about 
also. 

“This here Monty horse just come in without 
your boy !” said Bill, with evident concern in his 
voice. “I reckon we better send out all hands 
an’ see what’s happened. Mebbee the’ ain’t 
nuthin’ happened — Injun was with Whitey, but 
I don’t like the looks o’ this.” 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Did any of you men see the boys?” asked 
Mr. Sherwood, anxiously. 

“Me an" Hartley seen 'em,” said Walker. 
“They was way off near the branch an' was 
headed in the direction of the Cross an' Circle, 
tho’ I don’t cal’clate they was goin’ there. Me 
an’ Hartley headed ’em off, an’ questioned ’em, 
an’ they said they was just takin’ a ride. I tol’ 
’em they better keep away from the Cross an’ 
Circle an’ not to git off ’n the ranch. It’s a 
cinch they’re off that way !” 

As Walker and one or two of the other men 
were about to start, Bill Jordan called a halt. 
Turning to the men, he said — 

“Let ever’body drop what they’s a doin’ an’ 
come along. Better take yer guns, fer the’s no 
tellin’ what kind o’ mischief them two’s got 
mixed into. Spread out fan-shape, an’ keep 
within’ hailin’ distance. Don’t overlook 
nuthin’.” 

Within less time than it takes to tell it, every 
available man on the Bar O ranch was in the 
saddle and headed in a north-westerly direc- 
tion. It would have been impossible to back- 
172 


WHITEY IS MISSING 


trail Monty, even in daylight; but in the pres- 
ent light, it was out of the question; and the 
only logical method was to go to where the boys 
had been last seen. Naturally, Walker and 
Hartley led the searching party, Mr. Sherwood 
keeping by the side of Bill Jordan, who was 
really in command. 

“What do you make of it, Jordan?” Mr. 
Sherwood asked, a shade of anxiety coming 
over his face. 

“Why, Boss, it prob’ally ain’t nuthin’, much 
— horse might ’a’ got scared an’ throwed him, 
tho’ ’f thet was the case, ’t looks as tho’ Injun 
might ’a’ ketched him — but mebbe not. ’Tain’t 
really much good spec’latin’, fer any one 
of a dozen things could ’a’ happened. The’s 
one thing I bin studyin’ ’bout an’ I hope it ain’t 
thet.” 

“What do you mean?” asked Sherwood. 

“Well,” said Bill, “you mebbe’ll remember 
when yo’ an’ me was taking’ ’bout thet Cross 
an’ Circle outfit, after Ross done paid us a 
visit, I took notice thet Whitey was almighty 
interested in what we wuz sayin’, an’ fer thet 
173 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


reason I took yo' off to one side where he 
couldn't hear. 'Taint altogether out 'n reason 
thet he an' thet Injun concluded to do a little 
scoutin' aroun' on the'r own account. I wouldn't 
want 'em to get tied up with no rus'lers." Bill 
obviously did not want to alarm Mr. Sherwood 
unnecessarily, but there was no doubt that he 
thought the situation serious. 

“You mean the Cross and Circle people?" 
asked Mr. Sherwood. 

“Well, I ain’t quite sayin’ thet," said Bill, 
“but I got idees!" 

“You think," said Mr. Sherwood, after a 
pause, “that if they really got anything on the 
rustlers, or interfered with them in any way, 
that they might — put the boys out of the way?" 
And he looked apprehensively at Bill. 

“Mebbe not quite thet," said Bill, “but they 
might make it all-fired uncomfortable fer them 
two kids." 

Mr. Sherwood did not reply, and for several 
miles the men rode over the rolling prairie in 
a gradual ascent toward the foot-hills of the 
mountains. Fortunately a bright moon gave 
174 


WHITEY IS MISSING 


sufficient light to make their progress easy and 
rapid. At intervals the men fired shots into 
the air and hallooed ; but there was no answer- 
ing shot or call. 

The party finally arrived at the branch where 
the trail of the cattle had been lost, and Bill 
Jordan called the men together for a consulta- 
tion. Here it was obvious that there must 
be a division of their forces; and although he 
had no logical reason that he could have ad- 
vanced, Bill felt that their course lay, in gen- 
eral, toward the Ross ranch. Call it intuition, 
or a “hunch,” or what you will, it was strong 
within him, and he determined to follow it. 
Often a plainsman has nothing else to guide 
him — he must rely upon intuition alone — and 
it is surprising how often it proves to be true. 
And so it was decided that part of the outfit 
should ride down the east bank of the river 
toward the Cross and Circle ranch, and the 
others, under Bill, should approach it along 
the left bank. 

If the Ross outfit offered nothing else, Bill 
made up his mind that he would question the 
175 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


men and get any information in regard to the 
boys that they might possess. Accordingly, six 
or seven of the men under Walker, who had 
ridden herd in that section for many weeks 
and was thoroughly familiar with every detail 
of it, took the east side of the stream ; and the 
others, under Bill, swam their horses to the 
other side, and soon were under way toward 
the Cross and Circle. 

Bill gave orders that as the two parties got 
near the Ross ranch, they were to preserve 
quiet, and look the situation over before mak- 
ing known their presence. 

At the first movement that Whitey made in 
the hay, Ross had drawn his gun ; but when he 
saw the boyish face as it looked into his, he let 
his arm drop to his side; but as the boy started 
to scramble down from the hay-rick, Rosis 
grabbed him by the collar and held him se- 
curely, taking his rifle from him roughly and 
jerking him to his feet. 

“It’s only me, Mr. Ross,” said Whitey, as 
he stood before the rancher. “I was riding out 
176 


WHITEY IS MISSING 


by the river and discovered the cave and came 
in to explore it. I didn’t mean any harm, but 
when I heard the men coming, I hid in the 
hay.” 

“Oh, you did, did you !” sneered Ross, with 
rising anger, as Crowley and the other men 
crowded around. “You’re thet young Sher- 
wood kid, ain’t ye?” 

“Yes,” said Whitey, coolly, “my name is 
Sherwood.” 

“Well,” said Crowley, menacingly, as he 
faced Whitey and glared at him, “I reckon 
your name is 'Mud’ from now on ! What busi- 
ness had you to come snoopin’ ’round here an’ 
cornin’ into private tunnels an’ things like 
that?” 

“I didn’t know anything about your tunnel 
being private, and I don’t see any harm in com- 
ing into it anyway. You often come over onto 
our land. I’ve seen you, myself.” 

“Where’s that little Injun skunk thet travels 
’round with you?” asked Ross. “Wasn’t he 
with yo’ ? Thet was his hoss we got in the 
ranch yard.” 


177 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Oh, Injun let’s me ride his horse wherever 
I want to,” said Whitey, and this appeared to 
satisfy the men that Whitey was alone. 

It was evident that Whitey wasn’t going to 
scare easily, and a problem was presented to 
Ross and his men. They did not know how 
much Whitey had seen or heard ; to let him go 
would be hazardous, and to keep him, they 
knew would be perhaps equally dangerous. 
Ross and Crowley consulted together, a little 
apart from Whitey and the others, but in a 
moment one or two of the men joined them. 
Whitey stood looking innocently about and 
apparently unconcerned; but he was really 
much disturbed. He did not fear for himself, 
for he felt that the gang would scarcely dare 
kill him ; but Injun’s case was different. Pedro 
was very much in evidence, and he was menac- 
ing enough even toward Whitey. What his 
attitude would be if he got hold of Injun left 
little to conjecture. And so Whitey deter- 
mined to divert any suspicions the gang might 
have as far from Injun as possible. 

Some of the men were for doing away with 
178 


WHITEY IS MISSING 


Whitey at once, on the theory that “dead men 
— or boys either — tell no tales.” But Ross and 
Crowley were not inclined to do this, just yet, 
and Ross told the men to “go slow.” He de- 
termined to find out first how much Whitey 
knew. 

“Was yo’ here when we was brandin’ our 
cattle ?” asked Ross, taking the boy roughly by 
the shoulder. 

“I suppose you were branding some cattle,” 
answered Whitey ; “but I was back in the hay. 
Let go of my shoulder! You haven’t got any 
right to hold me that way !” 

Whitey made a movement as though to draw 
his revolver from his hip-pocket, but Ross 
seized his arm and wrenched the little pearl- 
handled .22 away from him. “Gimme thet 
thing!” Ross yelled. “What d’ ye mean by try- 
in’ to draw this here pop-gun on me? Hey? 
“I’ll hold you a good deal tighter ’n that ’fore 
I git thro’ with ye !” he snarled, shaking Whitey 
violently. “Yo’ shut yer trap an’ give a civil 
answer when y’re spoke to, er I’ll put ye where 
the dogs won’t bite ye !” 

179 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Let me tend to him, Boss,” said the tall 
man who had come with Ross to the Bar O 
ranch; “I got a way of handlin’ kids like him,” 
and he advanced as though to take hold of 
Whitey. 

Before Ross or Crowley could interfere, the 
tall man reached for Whitey and the latter, not 
waiting for or relying upon their assistance, 
parried the man’s lead, and stepping in close 
to him, planted a severe straight right-hand 
punch in the man’s stomach that doubled that 
gentleman up. 

“You let me alone, you big sheep-stealing 
jail-bird!” yelled Whitey. “I know you, Mis- 
ter 'One-Card’ Tucker, and I tell you right now 
that if you put your hand on me, Bill Jordan 
will tend to you, and tend to you right — like he 
did before — at San Quentin !” 

This whole performance was a bomb-shell in 
the Ross camp. While they were all astonished 
at the promptness and vigor and skill with 
which Whitey had delivered the punch that 
doubled up Tucker, the fact that the boy was 
familiar with the man’s record, and that Jor- 
180 


WHITEY IS MISSING 


dan had undoubtedly recognized him on the 
occasion of the visit to the Bar O, created con- 
siderable consternation. The next few min- 
utes, however, were occupied in quelling the 
outraged Mr. “One-Card” Tucker. 

“Lemme git at him ! I’ll kill thet little pizen 
pup !” howled Tucker, who, as soon as he got his 
breath, had made an effort to draw his re- 
volver ; and there is no doubt that Whitey would 
have fared badly if Ross and Crowley had not 
grabbed the man and taken the gun away from 
him, after considerable difficulty. 

“Gimme that gun,” yelled Ross as he grap- 
pled with the infuriated Tucker. “Ain’t you big 
enough to handle a boy without that? Any 
more o’ that stuff an’ I’ll wring your neck !” 

The laughter of several of the men over the 
fact that the big man had been doubled up by 
a fourteen-year-old boy did not tend to soothe 
Mr. Tucker’s feelings. It was of course ob- 
vious that in a bout of fisticuffs with Tucker, 
Whitey would have had no chance ; but he was a 
husky boy and had delivered the blow on ex- 
actly the right spot — the solar plexus — and it 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


really doesn’t take a very hard blow there to 
cause a man considerable annoyance. 

But the affair brought up a new complica- 
tion; there could be no doubt, now, that the 
head of the Bar O outfit must have some sus- 
picions about the personnel of the Cross and 
Circle. Had this knowledge come to Ross at 
any other time, he would probably have pub- 
licly discharged Tucker, and disclaimed any 
knowledge of his character when he hired him. 
But it was a trifle late to adopt this course now. 
Furthermore, it would be most unwise to let 
any very great harm happen to Whitey; he 
must, of course, be held a prisoner so that he 
could give no information to the Bar O people, 
but to murder him in cold blood was taking 
too much of a chance, even in a desperate sit- 
uation like this. Ross knew, too, that Whitey’s 
continued absence from the Bar O ranch would 
cause an immediate and exhaustive search to 
be made for the boy, and he was in no posi- 
tion to stand anything like that. Quite a 
dilemma — he didn’t dare keep Whitey, and he 
didn’t dare let him go! 


WHITEY IS MISSING 


Of the two evils, the former seemed the 
lesser, and he and Crowley determined to keep 
the boy until such time as they could get rid 
of the “counterfeit” cattle, and, in a way, “put 
their house in order.” 

In fact Ross had great confidence in the se- 
crecy of the under-ground chamber. There 
was very little chance that any one would dis- 
cover it at the river — not one in a thousand; 
and in the house above the entrance to it was 
most cleverly concealed, so that even a care- 
ful examination might take place without its 
existence being even suspected. The ranch 
was apparently without a cellar, as could be 
seen from the outside. But it was built al- 
most against the high and rocky cliff on one 
side, and it was at this point that the entrance 
to the subterranean chamber was gained. 

In the living-room of the ranch there stood 
a large wardrobe in which were hung various 
articles of clothing, as well as lariats and other 
ranchmen’s equipment. The wide doors of this 
wardrobe were usually open and a full view of 
the interior afforded to any one who entered 

183 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


the room. This very fact would have served to 
divert suspicion from that direction even had 
the searcher been aware that there was a 
chamber below. In the back of this wardrobe 
was a door, with invisible hinges, that opened 
onto a stairway leading down to the chamber. 

The lock that operated the door was con- 
trolled by one of the hooks that were apparent- 
ly fastened onto the back of the wardrobe for 
the purpose of hanging clothes upon it, but 
also answered the purpose of a door-knob. 

When the hook was turned three times to the 
right, the catch of the lock was released and 
the door, which was really the back of the 
wardrobe, swung back and revealed the steps. 
The lock was a spring-lock, and was opened 
from the cavern side by the ordinary knob that 
operates such locks. The cavern was really 
not under the house at all, but to one side of 
it; and thus sounding the floors would reveal 
nothing hollow underneath. 

Though the house itself, as used by the for- 
mer owner, was nothing out of the ordinary 
and almost exactly like many of the other 
184 


WHITEY IS MISSING 


houses that were plentiful in that section, yet 
under the Ross regime it had been made into 
a veritable fortress, although this was not par- 
ticularly noticeable from the outside. The win- 
dows had been barred sufficiently close to pre- 
vent a man from getting in or going out; and 
on the inside were iron shutters with loop- 
holes in them. Through these holes a rifle 
could be thrust and aimed, with little danger 
that the user of it would be hit by a bullet from 
the exterior. 

The doors were of heavy planks, and were 
fitted with double bars which, when in place, 
would make the forcing of the doors a difficult 
matter. And, in case things got too warm, the 
cave offered a refuge, and the tunnel to the 
river provided a means of escape. Altogether, 
it looked like a pretty safe place to carry on 
such a business as the Cross and Circle was en- 
gaged in. 

But in all these calculations, Ross was 
reckoning without Injun! That young man 
was destined to prove quite a factor in the 
upsetting of some very well-laid plans. 

185 


CHAPTER XVII 


HELD IN CAPTIVITY 

“The only thing to do,” said Ross to Crow- 
ley, as they talked apart from the others, “is 
to tie up this here kid until we can make a 
get-away. The whole shebang is blowed, now 
thet he knows as much as he does. Me an’ you 
can do a sneak with what the’ is in the safe, 
an’ let these gazoots hold the bag.” 

“Fm in favor of a get-away, all right, fer 
yo' an’ me, but not yet! The's altogether too 
much stuff to leave behind; an' there ain't no 
use o' gittin' cold feet. What kin thet Bar O 
outfit do, anyhow? The' ain't one chanct in a 
million thet they kin find anythin', an' while 
I ain’t in favor o' puttin' this here kid's light 
out, we kin keep him here indefinit' — ef we 
want to. The' be an awful squawk when he 
1 86 


HELD IN CAPTIVITY 


turns up missing but kids has bin missin’ afore, 
an’ they ain’t got no call to lay nuthin’ at our 
door. Ef they do, an’ worst comes to worst, 
we’ll give 'em a battle !” 

It took some time for Crowley to convince 
Ross that this was the proper course to pursue ; 
but eventually Ross determined to stick it out, 
and he and Crowley came back to the others, 
and Crowley gave the orders. 

“A couple of yo’ men block up the tunnel 
so ’t a snake can’t get through either way. Ross, 
let’s yo’ an’ me hobble this here young Jim 
Corbett so ’t he’ll stay with us a spell.” Turn- 
ing to Whitey, he said, “Yo’ are goin’ t’ be a 
guest o’ the ranch fer a time, Jim. ’S long’s 
yo’ don’t make no fuss an’ try to git away, er t’ 
put somethin’ over, yer’ goin’ to be all right 
an’ treated nice. But the first break yo’ make 
— well, Son, that’ll be ’bout the last thing yo’ ’ll 
ever do !” 

Crowley and Ross grabbed Whitey, who re- 
sisted to the best of his ability. “You’ve got 
no right to keep me here!” he protested. “I 
haven’t committed any crime and I don’t pro- 

187 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


pose to be made a prisoner! If I am, you bet 
you'll pay for it!" 

“Mebbe not," said Crowley, “but jes' the 
same, we ain't goin’ to dispense with yo'r so- 
ciety for a spell. Yo' come without no invi- 
tation, an' now I reckon yo' might as well 
tarry 'long with us. Ef we let yo' go out at 
night mebbe one o' them ontamed Jack-rabbits 
might sneak up an’ bite yo'. Hoi' on, yo’ young 
scorpion !" 

The occasion of the last remark was a solid 
kick on the shins that Whitey landed on the 
taunting Crowley as the latter reached for the 
boy and tried to hold his arms so that Ross 
could tie them. Whitey did not propose to 
stand still and be hobbled, and he left no doubt 
of it in the minds of either Ross or Crowley. 
Of course, the boy stood no chance in the 
hands of the two strong men; but for a few 
moments there was considerable fuss; before 
they got Whitey “roped and thrown," he had 
inflicted a number of painful bruises on each 
of the men. 

“Sufferin' cats!" said Crowley as he limped 
1 88 


HELD IN CAPTIVITY 


away from the bound and prostrate form of 
Whitey. “Of all the varmints ever I tackled 
that's the worst! I wish I’d let Tucker alone 
when he wanted to shoot him up !” 

Ross swore roundly and with great fervency 
as he tried to stop a nose-bleed with his coat- 
sleeve. Whitey, in his wrath, threw all discre- 
tion to the winds, as he struggled at his bonds, 
but could not loose them. 

“You wait — you two cattle-thieves!" sput- 
tered Whitey, as he lay on the floor of the 
cavern. “You wait till the Bar O outfit gets 
done with you. You and your counterfeit 
brands! Bill Jordan will hold a necktie-party 
and don't you forget it !" 

“Put a gag onto him, Crowley," said Ross, 
as he wiped away some blood from his nose. 

“Put it on yo'self," answered Crowley, “I 
got a belly-full o' monkeyin' with him, right 
now!" And Crowley showed a severe bruise 
on his shin as he rolled up the leg of his 
trousers. 

“I'll put it on," said Tucker, eagerly; and 
taking a handkerchief, he bent over Whitey 
189 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


and started to insert the gag in no gentle man- 
ner. In a moment Tucker let out a howl and 
jumped back, nursing a badly bitten hand. With 
an oath he sprang back at Whitey and deliv- 
ered a severe downward blow at Whitey’s face, 
but Whitey ducked to one side, and Tucker’s 
fist crashed against the rocky floor of the 
cavern. Before he had time to deliver an- 
other, Crowley had pulled him off, and hurled 
him aside. 

“Now, listen, you big stiff,” said Crowley, 
menacingly. “If yo’ pulls any more o’ that 
stuff, I’ll tend to yo’ — er mebbe I’ll untie that 
kid an’ sic him onto yo’! I knowed yo’ was 
pretty low-down, but I give yo’ more credit ’n 
to want to soak a boy — an’ him with his hands 
an’ feet tied!” 

“Well, look what he done to me!” yelled 
Tucker, exhibiting his hands — one badly bitten, 
and the other bruised and bleeding from its 
contact with the rocky floor of the cavern. 
“Look what he done !” 

“Well, yo’ wanted the job of gaggin’ him, 
didn’t yo’?” said Crowley. “Yo’ didn’t s’pose 
190 


HELD IN CAPTIVITY 


thet rarin' catamount was gonna lie there an’ 
let yo' put yo'r finger into his mouth 'thout 
bitin' it, did yo’? An' as fer thet other hand 
— I guess, mebbe, yo' ain't got no great kick 
cornin' 'bout thet. I'd like t' seen yo' break yo'r 
arm !" 

If Mr. “One-Card" Tucker was looking for 
sympathy, he needed some powerful glasses; 
for no matter how depraved and dishonest men 
are, there usually remains in them a liking for 
fair play and a certain sympathy for the under 
dog. And no matter how low their standard 
of morals may be otherwise, there are very few 
Western men who will stand by and see a 
man abuse either a woman or a boy or a dumb 
animal. It isn't in the breed. 

Crowley turned to Ross, who, by this time, 
had managed to stop his nose-bleed: “I don't 
reckon thet this here ragin' hyena needs no 
gag. We'll stow him back in the cellar, an' he 
kin yell his head off, ef he wants to; he can't 
raise no holler loud 'nuff fer anybody to hear. 
A couple o' yo’ men take an' tote him back into 
the angle back o' the cattle. An' look out how 
191 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


you handle him! He’s a ringtail Looloo, with 
a stinger on head an’ tail !” 

Two of the men picked up the bound Whitey 
had started back with him, but Crowley stopped 
them. Turning to all the men, he said, “An’ 
right here, I gives notice — partic’lar to yo’, 
One-Card — thet ef anythin’ happens to thet 
kid, I’m gonna settle with you personal’. Thet 
makes yo’ his g’ardeen an’ pertector. D’ yo’ 
understand? Rustlin’ cattle is bad enough, 
but murderin’ babies is a heap worse, an’ 
I ain’t takin’ no chances facin’ a jury on them 
partic’lar indictments.” 

“He’s a fine, healthy baby!” said Ross and 
Tucker, feeling of their wounds. 

And all this time Injun lay still in the hay 
and waited for his opportunity. 

The two men proceeded to carry Whitey 
around the pen in which the cattle were 
corailed, to where the passage turned at a 
sharp angle. The dim light of their lantern 
sufficed to illuminate only that portion of the 
cavern in the immediate vicinity, but judging 
from the echoes that reverberated from the re-* 
192 


HELD IN CAPTIVITY 


cesses beyond, the cave ran for a considerable 
distance into the mountain. The men deposit- 
ed Whitey upon the rocky floor with little cere- 
mony, and retraced their steps; and soon he 
was left in darkness and silence. The two men 
were joined at the stairs leading to the house 
above by those who had been sent to block 
up the entrance from the river, and the clos- 
ing of the heavy door above left the two boys 
alone in the cavern. 


j 

i 


193 


CHAPTER XVIII 

INJUN TAKES A HAND 

Injun lost little time in crawling noiselessly 
out of the hay, after he had heard the foot- 
steps die away on the stairs and the door above 
close; but he was cautious enough to lie still 
for a moment and listen, for the darkness was 
such that he could see nothing. Climbing down 
to the floor of the cavern, he produced his flint 
and steel; and in a moment he had lighted 
a sliver of wood that he had chipped from one 
of the planks with his hunting-knife. With 
this light he located a larger piece of stick, and 
soon had a torch that lit up the space around 
him for considerable distance. He glided swift- 
ly around the cattle corral, and in a few sec- 
onds he had loosed Whitey’s bonds, and the 
latter stretched his limbs that were even then 
194 


INJUN TAKES A HAND 


beginning to feel the numbing effects of the 
tight rope that had pinioned him. 

It was necessary to do something, and that 
something quickly, for the boys did not know 
at what moment the men might return. Injun 
split a number of long slivers from a plank 
to serve as torches, and then the boys made 
their way back toward the entrance to the 
river. They found that the tunnel had been 
effectually closed not more than fifty feet from 
its mouth by a heavy door that had been barred 
and padlocked, and which resisted all their ef- 
forts to open it. 

The fact that they had been able to enter the 
place at all had been due to the carelessness of 
the last party of ranchers that had entered and 
neglected to close and fasten it. Long immu- 
nity makes men careless about the most im- 
portant things. 

Finding that escape in this direction was im- 
possible, the boys made their way back to the 
other end, but found there was no exit there. 
They then came back to the stairs that led to 
the room above. Here they held a consulta- 
195 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


tion, and decided to mount the stairs and see 
what could be learned. Cautiously ascending 
the stairs, Injun listened at the door; and, af- 
ter a moment, reported to Whitey that there 
were several men in the room playing cards 
and discussing the situation. After examining 
the lock by the light of one of the splinters. 
Whitey saw that it could be opened by simply 
turning the knob; and returning to the floor of 
the cavern, he formulated a plan, which, al- 
though a desperate one and probably likely 
to fail, seemed to be their only chance. 

“It's dark by this time,” said Whitey, “and 
probably the only light in the room is a swing- 
ing one over the table, like all the ranch-houses 
have.” Injun nodded assent, and Whitey con- 
tinued: “We’ll both go to the top of the stairs, 
and I’ll open the door quickly and smash the 
lamp. There’ll be a big fuss and confusion, 
and maybe you can slip through the room and 
out one of the windows without being caught. 
What do you think of it?” 

Injun thought a while and finally nodded ; he 
knew that the ranch-house windows were 
196 


INJUN TAKES A HAND 


barred, but he also knew that he could prob- 
ably wiggle through them, and he indicated 
that he was ready as soon as Whitey was. 
Whitey selected a stout stick at the corral, and 
noiselessly the two boys climbed the stairs, 
and Whitey cautiously turned the knob. The 
door swung back toward them noiselessly, and 
by good luck the doors of the wardrobe that 
concealed the door were partially closed in an- 
other second, Whitey and Injun stood in the 
wardrobe. 

From his position Whitey could see a part of 
the room, and he pointed out to Injun that there 
was a window at the end of the room through 
which the latter might climb without having 
to pass the table. Injun was to remain behind 
one of the doors of the wardrobe until Whitey 
had smashed the lamp, and then he was to make 
a run for it. The conversation of the men was 
plainly audible. 

“I ain’t none too stuck on the bet as she 
lays,” said the heavy voice of Ross, who had by 
this time imbibed considerable whiskey, “an’ I 
ain’t shore but the best thing ’d be to choke 
197 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


thet kid an’ chuck him in the river. Ef he ever 
gits loose, it's good night !" 

There was a murmur of assent at this from 
some of the men, but Crowley was plainly 
against it. “Yo' all is afraid o’ yo'r own 
shadder! In the first place, how's he goin' t' 
git loose ? The' ain't no way f er him t' git out 
'n thet cellar 'cept through this room, even ef 
he got shet of 'bout twenty-five foot o' rope 
thet was drawed some tight 'round his arms an' 
legs. An' 't looks like we all might stop him 
'fore he got very far ef he come this way!" 
and Crowley looked about him contemptuously. 
“I'm a heap more 'fraid o' facin' a murder in- 
dictment 'n I am of anythin' thet kid er the 
hull, blame Bar O outfit kin do ! I tell yo' the' 
ain't no danger o’ their findin' him 'n the' is o’ 
thet lamp explodin'!" 

Whitey had set himself for the spring, and 
he threw open the doors of the wardrobe and 
reached the table in one bound. With a blow 
of the stick he shattered the lamp, and then 
swung it about him vigorously. Taken en- 
tirely unawares, and being totally ignorant of 
198 


INJUN TAKES A HAND 


what had struck them, there was indescribable 
pandemonium for a time. The room was in 
almost utter darkness, and several of the men 
having received hearty whacks over the head 
from the club in Whitey’s hands, contributed 
shouts and curses to the general uproar. 

“What the jumpin’ tom-cuts has struck us?” 
shouted Crowley in consternation as he re- 
ceived a whack across his face from the stick, 
and a deep and fervent oath from Ross indi- 
cated that he, too, had “got his.” 

Each was afraid to shoot lest he hit one of 
his own gang, and, indeed, the whole outfit was 
at a decided disadvantage. No one saw the 
sinuous Injun as he glided out of the ward- 
robe and slipped along the wall to the window. 
The bars were not very far apart, but it is 
probable that Injun would have gone through 
any space that a rattlesnake could ; and in less 
time that it takes to tell it, Injun had squirmed 
his way between the bars and dropped to the 
ground in the darkness outside. 

The solid thumps that Whitey bestowed on 
the various anatomical parts of those at the 
199 


HE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


table had the effect of scattering them in all 
directions; and they were completely in the 
dark as to what kind of a cyclone had struck 
the place. They could make no individual or 
concerted resistance, and the result was that 
they simply tried to get out of the way as best 
they could. The opening of a door by one of 
the men, who was really trying to escape, let 
in a flood of light, and several of the men rec- 
ognized Whitey as the source of the trouble. 
“Holy Mackerel !” yelled Crowley, “ef ’t ain't 
thet ragin' catamount got loose! Grab him, 
there, Ross, quick, afore he puts the whole 
dump on th’ bum !” 

With a yell of rage and amazement, four of 
the ranchers fell upon Whitey in a sort of foot- 
ball formation, while that young man fought 
and bit and clawed and kicked as long as he 
could move a muscle. 

As soon as the lanterns were brought in and 
the bruised and cursing cowboys had disen- 
tangled themselves, Whitey was yanked to his 
feet in no gentle manner; and while the irate 
Ross almost choked him to death, Crowley 
200 


INJUN TAKES A HAND 


bound him tight in a lariat much after the 
fashion that a mummy is swathed in bandages. 
Finally, when this was thoroughly and com- 
pletely done, Ross relinquished his grip on 
Whitey’s wind-pipe, and stood back and wiped 
the perspiration from his red and bloated face. 

There was a large and rapidly swelling welt 
over one of Ross' eyes where Whitey’s club 
had landed in the whirlwind assault that he had 
made upon the gang. In fact, there were few 
of the men who were not “decorated” in some 
manner, for Whitey had played no favorites in 
wielding his shillalah in the dark. Crowley’s 
lip was swollen to several times its natural size, 
and it was evident that he was having hard 
work to control his temper; and he, as well as 
the others, glared at the boy in a way that 
boded ill for him. 

But Whitey returned their black looks with 
interest ; his fighting-blood was up, — he had no 
regard for consequences ; and had he been loose, 
he would have charged all of them. One thing 
only was the salvation of Whitey. Crowley 
caught sight of several of the men nursing their 
201 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


various bruises — the welt above Ross’ eye was 
assuming ludicrous proportions — and Crowley 
laughed ! 

“No danger, hey?” snarled Ross. “He 
couldn’t git loose, er nuthin’! Oh, no! He’s 
jes’ as harmless as a ton o’ dynamite !” 

“No more chanct o’ him gittin’ loose ’n the’ 
is o’ the lamp explodin’ !” put in another, sar- 
castically. “Well, by Judas, ’t looks t’ me as 
tho’ the lamp done exploded!” 

“Yo’ all said a mouthful!” admitted Crow- 
ley, feeling of his lip, and speaking with some 
difficulty. “An’ I reckon mebbe I was among 
them present when she blew! I ain’t got real 
bright yet after thet wallop he giv’ me !” 

“Yo’re shore pretty bright, anyhow!” said 
Ross, making a painful effort to sneer. “Seems 
to me it was yo’ said he didn’t need no gag 
ner nuthin’! Mebbe he don’t — but he’s goin’ 
to git one — one ’at ’ll shet him up fer ’bout 
five hundred years, an’ then some ! I’m tryin’ 
to decide whether t’ bile ’im over a slow fire 
er t’ pull ’im apart with four hosses! I bin 
shin-kicked, thumb-bit, an’ walloped across the 


202 


INJUN TAKES A HAND 


nose with a club, an’ I reckon that’ll be ’bout 
all this evenin’! The’ ain’t no child- wonder 
goin’ to put them things over onto me an’ get 
away with it — not while I got my health, he 
am t. 

“Don’t look as tho’ none of us ’d have much 
health ef this here pizen varmint ain’t took in 
hand pronto!” said Tucker, who had received 
a crack over his sore knuckles that put his hand 
out of business. “I ain’t got no more scruples 
’bout shootin’ him up ’n I’d hev ’bout killin’ 
a coyote!” and Tucker tried to draw his gun 
with his sore hand. 

“The’ won’t nuthin’ like thet come off — not 
while I’m ’round!” said Crowley, firmly. “Ef 
seven er twelve big, over-growed huskies like 
we all is has t’ call in the Sassiety fer the Per- 
vention uv Cruelty by Childern an’ holler fer 
help ever’ time this here half-portion shows 
up in our midst, I reckon we all better make 
application fer admission to the home fer crip- 
pled old wimmen an’ set out onto the piazzy in 
rockin’ chairs, ’long with the rest on ’em!” 

And Crowley looked at the battered group 
203 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


and laughed. He knew that the situation was 
a dangerous one for the boy, and that it had to 
be handled with considerable tact ; and he chose 
one of the strongest weapons at his command 
— ridicule. Keeping his eye on “One-Card” 
Tucker and Pedro — the latter had not come out 
of the fracas unscathed, and although he had 
not said anything, was a dangerous customer, 
—Crowley continued: “Fur ’s I’m concerned, 
personal’, bein’ only a growed man an’ him a 
boy, I’m calc’latin’ on climbin’ a tree whenever 
I git his scent ; but ’t looks t’ me ’s though we 
all might band together an’ pertect ourselfs 
agin ol’ Calamity, here, without cuttin’ his 
throat er shootin’ him up when his hands is 
tied! 

“Look here, Bud,” he said, turning to 
Whitey, and tactfully trying to change the 
subject, “how cum yo’ to git loose, anyhow? I 
know I done roped yo’ myself, an’ I ain’t no 
amachoor — not at ropin’, I ain’t.” 

“One of our Bar O cattle that you thieves 
'counterfeited’ was a friend of mine and came 
up and ate the rope in two !” said Whitey, with 
204 


INJUN TAKES A HAND 


a laugh. “How else do you suppose I could 
get loose?” 

As Whitey said these indiscreet words Ross 
uttered an oath and started to draw his gun. 

“That settles it!” he said. “He’s wise to 
the whole game, an’ I’m goin’ to cook his 
goose right now!” And this determination 
seemed to meet with general approval. Tucker 
and Pedro drew nearer and backed Ross up. 

Crowley turned swiftly and faced them, his 
eyes narrowed to slits. “Be yo’ goin’ to play 
a lone hand,” asked Crowley, “er is this a 
free-fer-all? I ain’t noway pertic’lar, but I 
jes’ want t’ know whether I’m foreman here er 
not.” 

“Yo’re foreman, all right,” said Ross, boil- 
ing with rage, “but I’m the Boss! An’ I say 
I’m goin’ to croak the little skunk !” 

Crowley stood perfectly still between the 
three men and the boy, his hands on his hips, 
and his jaw set tight. 

“Le’ ’s see yo’ try it !” he said. 'I’m standin’ 
right here an’ waitin’!” 


205 


CHAPTER XIX 

INJUN TO THE RESCUE 

When Injun dropped to the ground from 
the barred window, he made off in the dark- 
ness toward the corral, dodging behind such 
objects as seemed likely to offer any conceal- 
ment, although he figured that pursuit was 
unlikely, as the men at the ranch-house had 
their hands full with Whitey. He kept his 
eyes open for such of the outfit as might be 
without the house, for he knew that capture 
would mean, not only his own death, but would 
destroy the last chance of bringing aid to his 
pal. Once he had arrived at the high bank of 
the river, he felt that his chances to escape 
observation had materially increased, and he 
set out on a dog-trot to cover the miles that lay 
between himself and the Bar O ranch. 

206 


INJUN TO THE RESCUE 


Meanwhile, the two searching parties, one 
on either side of the river, were sweeping to- 
ward the Cross and Circle ranch, leaving little 
of the ground unobserved as they proceeded. 
Acting under Bill Jordan’s orders, the parties 
maintained silence as they drew nearer the 
Cross and Circle. When they were not more 
than half a mile distant from it, the party on 
the left bank of the river suddenly drew up 
their horses in response to a call that sounded 
close by, and Injun scrambled over the edge of 
the bank and ran to them. In a few words 
Injun told wdiat had happened, and Bill Jor- 
dan swung the boy up behind him, called the 
men to cross from the opposite bank, and the 
whole party, some fifteen or sixteen strong, 
v/as soon headed for the Cross and Circle at a 
gallop. 

Arrived at the ranch yard, under the guid- 
ance of Injun, Jordan located six men at the 
mouth of the tunnel in case an atteinpt should 
be made to escape that way ; and with the bal- 
ance of the party he rode straight for the 
house. Injun, once he had pointed out the 
207 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


tunnel, slipped away unnoticed and made for 
the window through which he had escaped. 

Inside the house the situation was grave for 
Whitey. Crowley faced the enraged Ross who 
was backed up by the more desperate members 
of the gang. His cool nerve had a disconcert- 
ing effect upon the Boss, and it is probable that 
had he dealt with him alone, he would have 
been able to prevent him from carrying out his 
avowed purpose. But it is a difficult thing 
to keep an eye on several men at once, and by 
a stealthy and almost imperceptible movement 
“One-Card” Tucker drew his revolver slowly 
from its holster. 

He stood with his side to the window, at 
which Injun had posted himself, and there was 
no doubt as to what Tucker intended to do. But 
before he had a chance to raise his gun an ar- 
row from Injun’s bow pierced the muscles of 
the man’s arm, pinning it to his side ! 

Tucker dropped to the floor with a howl of 
agony, and it was a second or two before the 
other men realized what had happened, for 
there had been no sound ; and until they saw the 
208 


INJUN TO THE RESCUE 


arrow, which had gone entirely through Tuck- 
er's biceps and was imbedded deep in the mus- 
cles of his back, they were ignorant of the 
presence of an unknown enemy. 

For a second the men stood dazed — as is al- 
ways the case when something of a more or 
less mysteriously disconcerting nature hap- 
pens — and as they turned hastily toward the 
windows to ascertain the source of the attack, 
they saw the Winchesters of the Bar O boys 
glisten between the bars, and heard the voice 
of Bill Jordan shout, “Hands up — an' keep 'em 
up!” 

It was the work of but a few moments to 
complete the capture of the gang. The seven 
outlaws were faced to the wall, and while they 
were in this position, and under cover of the 
Winchesters, Injun squirmed through the bars 
of the window, relieved the ranchers of their 
weapons, loosed Whitey's bonds, and then un- 
barred the heavy door and admitted the Bar O 
men. 

T * hands of the outlaws securely 

200 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


behind their backs was the work of a few mo- 
ments, and then they were faced about. 

"A fine gang of high-binders !” commented 
Bill Jordan, as he looked them over. “I had 
your number, all right, Yancy, though sence 
yo’ growed them wriskers yo’ bin castin’ as- 
paragus on the good name o’ 'Ross !’ I 
reckon, mebbe, the folks down to Albuquerque 
'll be right tickled t’ see thet there ugly mug 
o' your’n — ’speci’ly the Sher’ff. An' here’s my 
o I’ friend, 'One-Card’ Tucker, all ornamented 
up ’ith arrers an’ such! I reckon yo’ done 
drawed yo’r last card, ain’t yo’, Tucker?” 

"That’s the meanest scoundrel in the whole 
outfit!” exclaimed Whitey. "If he’d had his 
way, I wouldn’t be here now! He got that 
hand by swinging a punch at me when I lay on 
the floor with my hands tied! It must have 
been Injun who made a pin-cushie *>f him 
with that arrow!” 

" 'Pin-cushion’ is right !” 
ing at Tucker’s arm; "but ’ 

Son, the’ ain’t no such thr 


210 


INJUN TO THE RESCUE 


skunk’ in thet bunch— the’s all the same kind 
o’ pizen. One ’s ’bout like t’ other.” 

“No,” said Whitey, “you’re mistaken about 
that ; there’s one man here, Crowley, the fore- 
man, who saved my life twice — once when 
Tucker wanted to shoot me, and once when 
Ross tried it. He wouldn’t have it, and he stood 
off the whole gang.” 

“Which is him?” ? 
lous tone. 

“Here he is,” r * 
foreman. 

“Step out I 
lemme have 
Crowley 1 
move. “I 
reckon I ’ 

“Seem 
here m r 
“I’m s' . 


“Ir 

’bout 

ever’t 

ae at 

mure i 

jn my 

line c / 

ntly, 


Jill, in an incredu- 

y, pointing to the 

wley person, an’ 

but did not 
said. “I 
> rest.” 
in this 
ceenly. 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Go on with the proceeding! Don't let me 
hender yo' none !” 

Bill stepped closer to the man and looked in- 
tently into his face. “No,” he said after a mo- 
ment, “I guess you wasn't 'fraid!” Then he 
asked, “Was you e Juarez, Mister — er — 


Crowley?” 

“Yes,” answ 
wasn’t.” 

“When?” 

“Several t 
time was wh 
ble into SiT 
shootin’ 
with ir 
neve' 

‘C 

s‘ 


“but not recent, I 

“TV las' 
rt o' trou- 
nsider’ble 
git out 
daces, I 

wasn't 

and 

the 
e cut 
Mr. 
le 


INJUN TO THE RESCUE 


sponsibility. Ef the’s any objections to it, I’m 
agreeable to givin’ my reasons.” He looked 
about him, and no one seemed to offer any ob- 
jection. 

“Go as fur ’s yo’ like, Bill,” said one or 
two of the men; and Sherwood nodded. 

Bill turned again to Crowley. “Yo’ don’t 
b’long to no ,such outfit as this here 1” he said. 
“Yo’ pick out yo’r gun an’ Winchester out’n 
thet pile, an’ get onto yo’r pinto an’ see how fur 
yo’ kin ride away from these vicinities ’fore 
sun-up.” 

Then turning to Mr. Sherwood, Bill said, 
“Boss, jes’ lemme have forty dollars an’ charge 
the same to me, ef you’ll be so kind/’ Mr. 
Sherwood handed the money to Jordan, who 
passed it over to Crowley without a word. 
“Thanks,” said the latter, “that’s right, as I 
figger.” “Yes,” said Jordan, “that’s the way 
I figger it too. Good-by an’ good luck.” 

Crowley turned to go and then hesitated ; he 
looked keenly at Bill, and then he said, “I ain’t 
s’posed to give no state’s ev’dence, er nuthin’ 
213 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


like thet, be I ? 'Cause ef I am, I reckon I’ll stay 
an' play out the string." 

“I didn't mention no conditions, did I ?" said 
Bill, a little heatedly. 

Crowley turned, picked out his weapons from 
the pile and then turned to Jordan. “Ef you 
value the lives o' them hombreys you got lined 
up there," he said, “I'd advise you to tie up 
thet boy, too. He's liable to be too rough with 
'em." 

Then he turned and strode out of the room ; 
and in a few moments the men heard the hoof- 
beats of his horse as he galloped away. 

Bill offered no explanation of his leniency 
and none was asked; but such was the confi- 
dence in Jordan’s squareness, that it is improb- 
able that any one felt that an injustice had 
been done. Certainly Whitey was glad and 
relieved to know that the man who had twice 
saved his life had, in a measure, been repaid 
in his own coin. He also knew that there was 
a story behind it all — a story of some previous 
relations that Bill had had with the man — and 


214 


INJUN TO THE RESCUE 


he resolved to get it out of Jordan at the first 
favorable opportunity. 

“I guess I may as well take my gun, too/’ 
said Whitey as he picked up the pearl-handled 
.22 from the pile that had been taken from the 
Ross gang, and thus was the gift of little Bobby 
restored to its rightful owner. 

“1 was wonderin’ how thet puttey-blower 
come to be in thet outfit?” said Bill, smiling. 
“You want to look out, Son! Ef yo’ should 
happen t’ shoot a man with thet there thing 
an’ he finds it out, he might be vexed !” 
Whitey grinned, but pocketed the little gun, 
which turned out to be better than it looked, 
long afterwards. 

The arrival of the Sheriff and a posse sim- 
plified matters as far as the disposition of the 
outlaws was concerned. Jordan had taken the 
matter in hand immediately after Ross’s visit 
to the Bar O, and had dispatched a messenger 
for the Sheriff, feeling that he had enough evi- 
dence against the Cross and Circle outfit to 
warrant that proceeding. 

After the whole party had explored the 
215 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


place under the guidance of the two boys, and 
the stolen cattle had been identified, they all 
came back to the living-room of the ranch. 
The Sheriff took Jordan and Sherwood aside 
and said, 

“There is another matter that mebbe this 
here Mr. Ross, as he calls himself, can throw 
a little light onto, an’ that is, how he cum to 
git possession o’ this here ranch. It's a cinch 
he didn't buy it off'n the former owner, Brad- 
ley; and nobody seems to be able to locate 
where this here Bradley's went to. I was 
calc'latin' to make some inquiries 'bout it, it 
havin' bin called to my attention, when yo'r 
messenger cum. The's some o’ Bradley's folks 
'd like to know 'bout the transaction." 

“Well," said Bill, “I dunno, but 't seems like 
ef I was Sher'ff an' I got my hooks onto a bird 
like this here Yancy-Ross person, I dunno 's it 
'd be necessary to ask the cuss to do any great 
'mount of explainin'. The's a powerful lot o' 
nice trees on the way to the Bar O !" 

“So the' is," said the Sheriff, “now 't I cum 
216 


INJUN TO THE RESCUE 


to think of it! They ain't bore no ‘fruit’ fer a 
consider’ble spell, neither, hev they?” 

“Not sence them other rustlers was dis- 
couraged ’bout three or four years back. Some 
o’ my boys ’d be plumb tickled to death t’ es- 
cort them hombreys t’ jail — er some place/* 

“Hmm,” said the Sheriff, meditatively. “I’ll 
think it over.” 

At this moment Whitey and Injun came up 
to Bill, all excitement. 

“Pedro isn’t here!” said Whitey. “He was 
here just before you came, but he’s not among 
the prisoners.” 

“Him Pedro gone!” said Injun laconically. 

Jordan was all attention in a second: “Here, 
Walker, Bob, an’ the lot o’ yo’ — the boys says 
thet our ol’ friend Pedro was here jes’ before 
we cum ! Take a gang an’ go over this dump 
with a fine-tooth comb! I’ll give fifty dollars 
to the man thet brings him in, an’ I ain’t per- 
tic’lar what kind o’ condition he’s in, neither !” 

“Yes, an’ I’ll add another fifty to it!” put 
in the Sheriff. “An’ the deader he is, the better 
217 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


Til like it l” he added, heartily. “Thet coyote 
has cost the county Tout enough as ’t is !” 

A thorough search of the house, cellar, and 
the vicinity failed to reveal any trace of Pedro, 
much to the chagrin of Bill Jordan, not to men- 
tion that of those who were desirous of earn- 
ing a hundred dollars. 

Injun shook his head. “Him Pedro goner 
he said, ruefully. It was a matter of some con- 
sequence to Injun — as events turned out. 


218 


CHAPTER XX 


THE TRUTH ABOUT CROWLEY 

There remained little to do at the ranch 
which had formerly been the home of the Cross 
and Circle outfit, and this little was soon done. 
Several of the Bar O men were left to look 
after the stock and keep guard. Injun’s pinto 
was found tied in the corral ; and both owner 
and horse gave every evidence of delight at 
their reunion. Much to the regret of the boys 
of the Bar O, the Sheriff decided to escort the 
prisoners to the jail himself rather than have 
the ranchers escort them to “ some place;” and, 
therefore, the trees on the way to the Bar O 
did not bear any “fruit” as the result of the 
contemplated “neck-tie party.” 

It was found that “One-Card” Tucker’s 
219 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


wound was a severe one, and he was given sur- 
gical attention by Bill Jordan, who allowed as 
how, 'When a pizen critter is shore destined 
to be hung, ’tain’t right t’ cheat th’ gallus an* 
let him croak natcheral !” 

On the way home Whitey, who had com- 
mandeered one of the horses of the Cross and 
Circle, rode up beside Bill Jordan and Mr. 
Sherwood, followed of course, by Injun. 

“Mr. Jordan, 1 ” began Whitey, “won’t you 
tell us why you let that man Crowley go? I’m 
mighty glad you did, for he certainly saved my 
life!” 

Jordan smiled: “Mebbe,” he said, “that was 
partly the reason.” 

“That may have had something to do with 
it,” said Whitey, “but I know there was some 
other reason, too.” 

“Well,” said Bill, after a pause, “now ’t 
we’re here together, I’ll tell yo’ all. ’Bout five 
six years ago I was down to Juarez, an’ I gits 
into more kinds o’ trouble than Carter ’s got 
pills. I’d bin down into Mexico, an’ I was head- 
ed back fer God’s country, an’ I jes’ drops 
220 


THE TRUTH ABOUT CROWLEY 


off’n the train t’ watch them skates out t’ the 
merry-go-round they calls a ‘race-track/ an’ 
mebbe pick up a bet er two. Tout the fourth 
race I cum t’ the conclusion I wa’n’t no jedge o’ 
hoss-flesh — not them kind o’ hosses, anyhow — 
an’ I lays out t’ beat it away from there an’ 
get a train. ’Fore I c’d git off’n the track — 
they must ’a’ seen I was a hick — some dip 
lifted what was left o’ the roll, not fergittin’ t’ 
incude my watch an’ railroad ticket in the 
deal!” Bill laughed as he thought of it, and 
the others laughed with him. 

'Tunny, ain’t it?” said Bill, grinning. "But 
’t wa’n’t so funny then! They shore picked 
me cleaner ’n a col’-storage chicken, an’ when 
I give my jeans a frisk, I found I was exactly 
fourteen dollars shy o’ havin’ a nickel! I bet 
I walked nine mile ’round thet town, thet 
evenin’, an’ never seen a friendly face! An’ 
me hungry ’nuff t’ eat raw dog; but I never 
run acrosst no dog — not no four-legged one, 
anyway, less’n yo’ call them hairless kind dogs 
— the kind thet looks like a rat on stilts. Fin’ly 
I strays into this here Silver-Dollar Joe’s place 
221 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


— so called on account o' him havin' a bunch of 
'em riveted into th' floor an' such. The' was a 
bald-headed hombrey dealin' faro-bank, an' I 
stands around watchin' the game, hopin' some- 
body 'd drop a quarter er somethin’ — but no- 
body done nuthin' like thet — not onto th' floor, 
't least. I think I’d of give ’em a battle fer it 
ef they had! Bimeby the' was a tall guy gits 
up from the table an' hands out th' most artis- 
tic line o' cussin' I'd heard in some time. When 
a gent kin manhandle language an' discuss his 
luck like he done, it's a gift! He cum over to- 
wards me, an' I reckon I must 'a' looked like 
a picture o' hard luck, too ; an’ he says, stopping 
an' givin’ me the once-over, 'Yo' don't look 
yo' had no rabbit's foot workin' over-time fer 
yo', neither,' he says. 

“ 'Correct," J says. "As fur 's luck's con- 
cerned, it's a case o' horse-an'-horse — only 
mebbe mine's a mite worse 'n your'n.' 

“ 'I kin lick any man thet says his luck is 
worse 'n mine !' he says. 

“ 'Commence !' I says, squarin' off. 

222 


THE TRUTH ABOUT CROWLEY 


“He looked me over, an’ 'n he says, ‘Mebbe 
we better have somethin' first?' he says. 

“ ‘Yo' 're on!' I says, linkin' my arm into 
his'n so 't he couldn’t git away an’ change 
his mind. 

“Well, we had one an’ then another, him 
doin' the payin', me havin’ declared myself in- 
solvent. We stood leanin’ agin' th' bar, me 
havin' visions that mebbe he’d say somethin’ 
'bout a san'wich. But seems he had other idees. 
He fin'ly digs up a ten-dollar gold-piece an' 
twirls it on the bar careless — an' me meditatin’ 
robbery from the person when I seen it. In a 
minute I was glad to kep' control o' my yearn- 
in's. 

“ This here's the last o' th' Mohigans,' he 
says. 'It ain't no good t' me,' he says, 'an' 
mebbe, ef you'd take it an' set into thet game, 
yo' might make her run. The's them thet says 
thet two neg'tives makes a affidavit, er some- 
thin', an' combinin' yo'r luck an' mine mebbe 
'll start somethin'. Want t’ take a chanct?' 

“Did I want t' take a chanct! I did so! 

22 3 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


Tho’ I was some tempted t’ buy ten dollars 
wu’th o' ham an’ eggs with th’ hull of it. 

“Well, I set in, an’ my friend went to sleep 
pronto. Pretty soon luck begin t’ cum my way 
an’ I win a bet now an’ then. After a spell I 
had seventy dollars in silver in front o’ me, an’ 
my friend woke up. He cum over back o’ my 
chair an’ he says, ‘How much yo’ got?’ ‘Seven- 
ty dollars,’ I says. ‘Don’t make no more bets,’ 
he says, kinder loud, ‘thet bald-headed pirate is 
dealin’ seconds an’ settin’ up splits.’ 

“Right there’s where she started. I managed 
t’ git the money into my jeans before the worst 
cum, an’ the’ was considerable fire-works an’ 
breakage took place. I dunno jes’ what hap- 
pened, but I seen my friend wa’n’t no slouch 
an’ took quite a hand in th’ festivities, an’ the’ 
wa’n’t much left o’ the place when the smoke 
cleared. I seen my friend make a get-away, 
an’ I follered as soon ’s I could. B,ut though 
I put in all nex’ day lookin’ fer him to give him 
his forty dollars, I never saw him agin till 
to-night !” 

Bill rode along in silence for a moment ; then 
224 


THE TRUTH ABOUT CROWLEY 


he said, reminiscently, "‘His name wasn’t Crow- 
ley, then — somethin’ a heap more stylisher! 
Seems t’ me ’t was some such name as Smith — 
er, mebbe, Jones. Whatever ’t was, I consider 
he had mebbe a little more’n forty dollars corn- 
in’ to him from me — after what he done to me 
thet night in Juarez.” 


225 


CHAPTER XXI 


INJUN TACKLES CIVILIZATION 

The happenings at the Cross and Circle 
ranch had served to knit closer those bonds 
which held the white boy and the Indian to- 
gether. Already fast friends, the trials and 
dangers that they had been through still fur- 
ther cemented the tie into something more than 
friendship. Injun received his full share of 
credit in the affair, for it had been through his 
wonderful sagacity and his remarkable pow- 
ers of observation that the various discoveries 
had been made that led to the tracing of the 
cattle, the cleaning out of the gang, and the 
recovery of much valuable property. In fact, it 
was finally revealed, after a long investigation, 
that the former owner, Bradley, had been mur- 
dered by Ross, or Yancy, and that deeds and 
226 


INJUN TACKLES CIVILIZATION 


other papers conveying the property had been 
forged, and thus the rustler had come into pos- 
session of a valuable property — far too valu- 
able to have jeopardized it by the nefarious 
practices in which he engaged. And when the 
property was finally restored to the rightful 
heirs, each of the boys was remembered in a 
substantial way by the Bradley heirs, as will • 
be seen later. 

Whitey, too, was not forgotten when it came 
to apportioning the credit for the clean-up. He, 
it must be remembered, had first undertaken 
the investigation on his own hook; he had 
crawled out of the hay and offered him- 
self for capture that Injun might escape — a 
thing which required very much more than or- 
dinary nerve and unselfishness. And it was 
largely on account of his aggressive action that 
the capture of the band was effected without 
any bloodshed, except that which flowed from 
“One-Card” Tucker’s arm, and the bruises 
which Whitey inflicted on the various members 
of the Ross gang. 

When the whole story was fully known, it 
227 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


is almost needless to say that the two boys were 
heroes with the men of the Bar O and the other 
nearby ranches; but they bore their honors 
modestly, and each made little of the part that 
he, himself, had played in the affair, and gave 
credit to the other for having enacted the prin- 
cipal role. 

The one “fly in the ointment” was the es- 
cape of Pedro. Not only did this continue a 
very grave menace to Injun, for Pedro had 
sworn to get even with the boy, but it was a 
keen disappointment to Bill Jordan, who re- 
garded Pedro in about the same light as a 
mad dog, only the man was far more danger- 
ous and resourceful than any dog could pos- 
sibly be. 

And now, in view of the part that Whitey 
had played in the wiping out of the gang, both 
Mr. Sherwood and Bill Jordan felt that the 
white boy, also, would be added to Pedro's list 
of those upon whom he proposed to visit his 
revenge. Pedro was known to be a most per- 
sistent and consistent hater, and he had been 
known to cherish a trifling grievance for years, 
228 


INTUN TACKLES CIVILIZATION 


and to go a long distance out of his way to 
avenge some trivial injury, real or fancied. 

The entire outfit at the Bar O were, 
therefore, given strict orders to keep a sharp 
eye out for the gentleman, and to “get” him 
on sight, taking no chances whatever on his 
escape. There was a general feeling that he 
would not leave the neighborhood until he had, 
in a measure, repaid those who had been in- 
strumental in balking his schemes, even if it 
took a long time to do it; and Bill took the 
boys aside and impressed this upon them. 

Altogether, it was a jolly party that rode 
into the ranch yard a few hours before day- 
light. As they neared the ranch, Injun, accord- 
ing to his custom, had started to leave the 
party and go to his own haunts; but Whitey, 
backed up by his father and Bill, put a veto 
on this, and so it was finally decided that 
Injun should spend the night with Whitey at 
the Bar O ranch. 

Injun faced the proposition with some mis- 
givings ; he was not accustomed to the usages 
of civilization, being even more wild than the 
229 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


members of his own tribe. He preferred the 
wilderness and the mountains even to the primi- 
tive arrangements and comforts of the Indian 
village, and his initiation into anything so 
civilized as a modern ranch-house was a wide 
departure. 

When he was ushered into Whitey’s room, 
after a plentiful “breakfast” — both the boys 
were nearly famished, having had nothing to 
eat since noon of the day previous — he looked 
around in positive awe. The room did not 
exactly resemble a society belle’s boudoir, but 
there were many things in it that meant noth- 
ing in Injun’s young life. 

He was introduced to himself, probably for 
the first time, by means of a large mirror that 
surmounted the dresser, and he was great- 
ly surprised and pleased when Whitey showed 
him that, by tilting it, he could get a full-view 
of himself as well as a “close-up.” It is doubt- 
ful if he would have gone to bed at all if Whitey 
had not insisted, but would have spent the rest 
of the night seeing himself as others saw him. 

The hair brush was also new to Injun; 
230 


INJUN TACKLES CIVILIZATION 


and after he had been instructed in its 
use, he spent considerable time arranging his 
long hair in various ways before the glass. 
Whitey watched him with a broad grin: “Why 
don’t you do it up in blue ribbons?” he asked, 
laughing. Injun rejected this suggestion with 
a grunt and a shake of his head. “Ugh ! Red !” 
he said. He didn’t object to the ribbons, but 
the color ! ( An Indian likes any color — as long 
as it’s red!) 

It took him a long time to decide to take 
off his clothes, and he balked at the clean, 
white pyjamas that Whitey offered him. Noth- 
ing doing! Fortunately Whitey had a pair of 
vivid pink pyjamas; and these Injun could not 
resist. He arrayed himself in them with some 
difficulty, and surveyed himself in the glass 
until Whitey threatened to put out the light. 
And when it came to getting into the bed, he 
was most dubious. He would have much pre- 
ferred to lay himself on the floor near the 
open window and be comfortable! 

After much persuasion, however, he con- 
signed himself, with much misgiving, to the 
231 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


soft bed. Injun was accustomed to selecting a 
spot protected from the winds, first making a 
fire, if occasion demanded, and then stretching 
out on the ground or some pine boughs that he 
collected if they were available. 

He could adjust himself to the most cramped 
and uncomfortable positions and get the repose 
he needed, even “keeping one eye open,” as the 
saying is, against the dangers that might beset 
him in the night. However, notwithstanding 
all the “discomforts” of the civilization that 
surrounded him, Injun was asleep inside of 
five minutes, though Whitey lay awake for a 
long time, the exciting events of the past 
twenty-four hours running through his mind 
in vivid review ; until, at last everything became 
a jumble of caverns and Crowleys and Rosses 
and cattle and scrimmages, all crazy and indis- 
tinct, fantastic and illusory, as things always 
are in the borderland of dreams. 


232 


CHAPTER XXII 


INJUN SHIES AT PINK PYJAMAS 

The sun was high in the heavens when 
Whitey awoke. The first sight that met his 
eyes was Injun, clad in the pink pyjamas, 
parading up and down before the mirror, and 
evidently much pleased and impressed with his 
appearance. Whitey watched him for a time, 
and then bounded out of bed, and pouring out 
a basin of water, scrubbed his face and hands 
vigorously. Injun watched him with some cu- 
riosity, but declined to follow his example. The 
water part of it was all right, but the soap he 
couldn't understand. 

It must not be imagined that Injun was not 
cleanly ; he spent considerable time in the 
water, but he preferred Nature's bath-tub 
233 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


rather than a tin, or a crockery one. When 
Whitey was half-dressed, he was somewhat as- 
tonished to notice that Injun had not yet 
started. 

“Hurry up, Injun!” he cried. “Get into your 
clothes and let’s get some breakfast! I’m 
starved !” 

Injun couldn’t see it at all! The pink py- 
jamas looked pretty good to him, and he had 
decided to adopt them for every-day wear! 
Whitey almost laughed himself to death. 
“Why, you can’t wear those things around the 
ranch !” he said, when he got his breath. 
“Those are only to sleep in!” 

Injun didn’t feel that way about it at all; 
he could not understand why such comfortable, 
loose-fitting and becoming garments were not 
appropriate for all occasions. And to give em- 
phasis to the fact that he intended to adopt 
them for business purposes, he proceeded to 
roll up his shirt and trousers, and put on his 
moccasins, and tell Whitey that it was he who 
should do the hurrying, as he (Injun) was 
dressed and ready. 


234 


INJUN SHIES AT PINK PYJAMAS 


The joke was too good a one to spoil, and so 
Whitey let it go at that, chuckling to himself 
at the thought of the sensation Injun would 
create when he appeared on the ranch. 

Both Mr. Sherwood and Bill Jordan were at 
breakfast when the two boys entered, and the 
men burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter 
at the sight of Injun. 

“Sufferin' comets !” said Bill, when he could 
get his breath ; “look who's here ! W ell, if thet 
ain't a hot sketch, I never seen one !" And Bill 
again went off int$ another peal of laughter. 
Injun was not at all disturbed, but pro- 
ceeded to take his seat at the table with solemn 
dignity, and reach out for whatever he saw be- 
fore him that he felt he would like to eat. 

“Ain't yo' got a silk hat, Mr. Sherwood ?” 
asked Bill, as well as he could, between fits of 
laughing. “Ef this here bird-o'-Paradise jes' 
had a plug-hat onto him now, he’d be the belle 
o’ the ball fer fair! Ef them boys out t' th’ 
corral ever gits a flash at this here galliwum- 
pus, I couldn't git no work out 'n 'em fer a 
week! They'd fall down on their face an’ die 
235 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


a-laffin' ! An’ yet, I ain't got the heart t' deny 
'em a peek at it! He's got a peacock lookin' 
like a dirty deuce in a clean deck, an’ 't ain't 
ever' day the's a ontamed hero wanderin' 'round 
in pink pants, makin' his debut inta sassiety, 
an' givin' folks a treat !" 

Mr. Sherwood, convulsed as he was, sig- 
naled to Bill to let Injun go through with it, 
and Bill nodded understanding^. He tried to 
finish his coffee, but another look at Injun 
caused him to choke and swallow it the wrong 
way, so he rose hurriedly from the table and 
made his way out to the corral as well as he 
could. 

In due course Injun and Whitey made their 
appearance at the corral, and any serious at- 
tempt to describe the scene would be idle. If it 
had been any one but Injun, who had more 
than ever endeared himself to the boys by his 
performances of the day before, it is doubtful 
if they would have ever let up. Injun took it 
all in good part, being supremely satisfied with 
himself. Mr. Sherwood, however, voiced this 
apprehension: “I don’t know as we ought to 
236 


INJUN SHIES AT PINK PYJAMAS 


let the boy wear those things out on the range 
— how do you think some of the cattle will re- 
gard that flaming get-up ?” 

“Well,” said Bill, “outside o’ them pore, 
dumb critters being plumb scairt t’ death an’ 
mebbe stampedin’, I reckon I wouldn’t worry 
none. Ef yo’ was thinkin’ ’bout thet Injun kid, 
from what I’ve saw of him, I Agger he kin take 
care of hisself in ’bout any fix he’s li’ble to git 
inta. It’s them cattle as has a worry cornin’ 
to ’em! ’Tain’t playin’ square t’ spring no 
sech chromatic outrage on them innercent an’ 
do-cile animals an’ git ’em all het up with 
runnin’!” Bill grinned, and then added, after 
he had thought a moment, “Mebbe it’d sort o’ 
discourage this here aboriginal Aztec from 
sportin’ them sartorial embellishments ’f I was 
t’ git him to lead out thet little black devil of 
a bull inta the corral. We prob’bly might 
mebbe see some o’ them torreador stunts them 
Greasers pulls down ’t Mexico City ! How ’bout 
it?” 

Mr. Sherwood promptly put a veto on this, 
although there is little doubt that Injun would 
237 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


have tackled the job, well knowing the danger 
that it entailed. The black bull was bad enough 
without anything to irritate him, but being led 
by an Indian in pink pyjamas was more than 
any self-respecting bull could be expected to 
stand. 

And so it came about that Injun wore the 
pink pyjamas until they were reduced to rags 
and were on the point of falling off of him. 
The flimsy material was not calculated to stand 
rough usage, and a few days sufficed. Even 
then it was only with the utmost difficulty that 
he was induced to relinquish them. Only the 
offer by Mr. Sherwood to completely outfit the 
boy had any effect, and Injun even hesitated 
about this, because the outfit didn’t conform to 
his idea of a color scheme. However, once 
the boy got into the new clothes and looked at 
himself in the mirror, he felt more satisfied. 

Bill Jordan looked him over with undis- 
guised approbation in his face; but he made 
a suggestion. "Injun,” he said, as he looked at 
the boy’s long and shaggy head of hair, “ yo’ 
ain’t aimin’ t’ be an understudy fer them Ab- 
238 


INJUN SHIES AT PINK PYJAMAS 


solem er Sampson persons, be yo’? Ain’t yo’ 
bin playin’ hookey from the barber’s fer quite 
a spell ? Looks like the’ might be mice in thet 
there mane o’ yo’r’n. Why don’t yo’ let Pete 
here operate on them hirsute hairs an’ git yo’ 
all manicur’d up proper? I reckon yo’ c’d 
stand it ’thout takin’ gas!” 

Injun was of an accommodating nature — the 
kind that will try anything once; and as the 
process of civilizing him had gone as far as 
it had, he concluded he might as well go ahead 
with it ; and in a few moments Pete, the ranch 
barber, was at work on him. Pete was not 
what is known as “a tonsorial artist”; he was 
just a plain barber, whose standing as an ama- 
teur was unquestioned. His ways were some- 
what primitive, if effective, and his equipment 
consisted of some sheep-shears, a pair of horse- 
clippers, and a willing disposition ; and with this 
combination, Pete generally managed to get 
most of the hair off, in spite of the fact that 
he had no “Union card.” He worked rapidly 
and was careful — frequently his “customers” 
escaped without the loss of anything more than 
239 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


their tempers, together with small pieces of 
hide and an insignificant clipping from an ear, 
which really amounted to nothing when their 
otherwise improved appearance was consid- 
ered. 

The “barber-shop” was a space in the ranch- 
yard, out near the corral, and consisted of a 
soap-box, on which the victim sat, and the 
welkin. There was always an “audience,” or, 
rather, spectators, who stood around and made 
more or less facetious comments; but after 
witnessing the performance, it took consid- 
erable nerve to respond to the call of “Next!” 

Injun received sundry digs and clips, but 
bore them stoically, probably deeming them a 
regular and usual part of the thing; and it must 
be admitted that his appearance was decidedly 
changed — whether for the better or not was 
a matter of debate, as he stood up for inspec- 
tion. 

“Well,” said Bill Jordan, as he looked at the 
boy in perplexity, “mebbe, Pete, ’f yo’ was t y 
use a ax yo’ could git more ofFn thet nigh 
ear’n what yo’ done. Howsumever, I reckon 
240 


INJUN SHIES AT PINK PYJAMAS 


yo’ massacreed him sufficient as ’t is! D’ y’ 
s’pose ef yo’ was to take a file yo’ c’d mebbe 
level off some o’ them humps ?” 

Then Walker circled the boy, eying him crit- 
ically and making pitying noises. 

“I thought I seen some fancy hair-cuts in 
my time,” said Walker, “but this here’s got 
’em all faded ! Thet kid’s nut looks like it cum 
through a McCormick harvester! Thet red- 
skin’s shore got a fergivin’ disposition er he’d 
run this here Pete person clear to Omaha — an’ 
justifiable, too!” 

“ ’F I was yo’, Bill,” said Charley Brackett, 
“after I sent fer th’ amb’lance and first-aid an’ 
some court-plaster an’ bandages, I’d notufy 
congress — Indians has some rights!” 

“Is that so!” said Pete. “Mebbe you guys 
thinks yo’ c’d do a heap better — yes? I calls 
thet a pretty fair job — considerin’. Lemme 
tell yo’ thet kid’s got hair like wire, an’ a pair 
o’ pliers ’d be better ’n shears.” 

“After looking him over,” said Bill, “I 
reckon yo’ must ’a’ spoke the truth! ’T’s a 
pity his hide ain’t sheet-iron, too.” 

241 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Well,” said Pete, laughing, “I don't see 
where yo’ all got no call t' criticize — the kid 
ain't sayin' nuthin'!” 

“He can’t see hisself !” said Bill; “an' mebbe 
yo're lucky he can't. Them Injuns is resent- 
ful!” 

At any rate, Injun survived the ordeal, and 
in his new outfit, made quite a prepossessing 
figure, notwithstanding the hair-cut. He was 
naturally a good-looking boy, and possessed 
qualities of mind and character that merited at- 
tention and development; and Mr. Sherwood 
determined that, if it were possible, he would, 
one day, see that Injun had some of the ad- 
vantages that white boys enjoy. 

Not the least of Whitey’s enjoyments was 
getting letters from the boys back East — 
scarcely a week passed that Bobby and George 
and Tom did not collaborate in a letter 
with plenty of news about baseball and the 
other things that Whitey used to be interested 
in. I say “used to be” — he really was yet, but 
in a secondary way. So engrossing did he find 
life on the ranch, that he had, in a measure, put 
242 


INJUN SHIES AT PINK PYJAMAS 


many of those things behind him. He found 
that riding a horse and throwing a lariat and 
fishing and hunting were fully as interesting 
as watching The Giants and The Cubs, or 
trying to curve a ball away from the plate and 
fool the batter. He had a feeling — and in a 
sense, he was right — that the former were 
men's doings, and that he was fitting himself 
to be a man among these men about him. 


243 


CHAPTER XXIII 


WHITEY HIS OWN BOSS 

As the days went by Whitey found that he 
had “increased in wisdom and stature” to a 
considerable degree. Although he had been 
the strongest boy at school, he knew that, after 
two months or so on the ranch, he had not 
only gained remarkably in strength, but in 
agility and suppleness the gain had been pro- 
portionately much greater. He had developed 
muscles that he did not know he possessed, and 
his almost continuous life in the open air had 
strengthened his lungs, and had hardened and 
toughened him. He did not know what “a 
cold” meant, now; or, in fact, illness of any 
kind; and he was impervious to any sort of 
weather that had, as yet, presented itself. In 
short, he fitted into ranch life like “a duck’s 
244 


WHITEY HIS OWN BOSS 


foot in the mud,” as Bill Jordan expressed it. 

“Do you think, Son, you could manage to 
get along without me here for a time?” asked 
Mr. Sherwood, as he and Jordan and the two 
boys sat on the piazza at sunset, one evening. 

“Sure, I could get along,” said Whitey, “but 
where are you going?” 

“I find my affairs in the East need some at- 
tention and I must go back, at least for a 
time. Do you want to go back with me?” 

“I do not!” said Whitey, emphatically. “I 
think I won't ever want to go East again!” 
Bill Jordan smiled behind his hand. 

“How about seeing your mother and sisters 
and the boys?” asked Mr. Sherwood. 

“I want to see them, all right; but what is 
the matter with bringing them out here? You 
said you would, if you found things here were 
fit for them, and it seems to me that they are 
fit for anybody! I don't see why any one 
should ask for anything better than this !” 

“I might bring your mother and sisters, but 
I don't exactly see how I could bring your boy 
friends,” answered his father. 

245 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“I don’t see why/’ said Whitey. “They’d 
all like it just as much as I do. Don’t you 
think their fathers would let them come?” 

“Perhaps, but there are other things to be 
considered,” said Mr. Sherwood. “However, 
we’ll see about it. But before I go, I want to 
be assured of one thing, and that is, you two 
boys must promise to keep out of mischief. Bill 
has enough to do without having to go and 
rescue you from a peck of trouble.” 

“That doesn’t mean that we have to stay 
cooped up on the ranch all the time, does it?” 
asked Whitey ruefully. 

“Considering that the ranch contains some- 
thing like sixty square miles, that ought not to 
be a hardship, and I wouldn’t exactly call it 
being 'cooped up’; but if you find that you 
have to go off it, go ahead — only don’t get 
mixed up with any more rustlers and caverns ; 
and remember, too, that our old friend Mr. 
Pedro is still at large. He’ll skin the pair of 
you alive if he gets the chance.” 

“I don’t know whether he would or not,” 
said Whitey. “I think that in a fair fight, 
246 


WHITEY HIS OWN BOSS 


Injun and I could give him about all he wanted 
to do, and then some!” 

“That’s jest the trouble, Son,” said Bill Jor- 
dan, “thet skunk don’t know nuthin’ 'bout fight- 
in’ fair. He’d sneak up an’ bite a baby while it 
was asleep ef he could ! Ef either o’ you two 
gets yo’r lamps onto his pizen carcass, yo’ 
both better empty yo’r Winchesters inta him 
an’ then ride away fer dear life. Thet’s th’ 
only way to do ’ith him!” 

“Injun hasn’t any Winchester,” said Whitey, 
who thought he saw an opening whereby his 
pal might get one — and he was right. 

“Better see if you can’t find one, Bill, and 
let the boy have it,” said Mr. Sherwood. “I 
think he has shown that he can be trusted with 
anything in the way of equipment that any 
ranch-hand uses. He is entitled to about any- 
thing that I can give him, for he has rendered 
both Whitey and me most valuable service, and 
I want to show him that I appreciate it.” 

“I think thet’s good jedgment, Mr. Sher- 
wood. Them two boys is a whole team an’ a 
dog under the wagon, to boot, but the’ ’s a heap 
247 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


safer with two guns ’n the’ is with one — now 
’t they knows how to handle ’em.” 

And so Injun got his Winchester, one from 
the rack at the ranch-house and, if possible, he 
was more elated over its possession than he 
had been over the pink pyjamas. With his 
naturally keen eye, developed as it had been by 
continual use of the bow and arrow, he soon 
became fairly expert in its use, an almost un- 
limited supply of cartridges which Bill al- 
lowed the two boys contributing to this end. 

When Mr. Sherwood left for the station to 
take the train East, the two boys on their 
horses accompanied the wagon as outriders. 
The long ride of twenty-two miles was soon 
made, and at last the East-bound limited came 
puffing into the station, Mr. Sherwood’s bag- 
gage was lifted aboard. 

"Sure you don’t want to go along?” asked 
Mr. Sherwood of Whitey, as he stood on the 
observation-platform of the rear car. 

"Certain !” answered Whitey. "I am hungry 
to see the folks and the boys, but I can wait 
until they come out here !” 

248 


WHITEY HIS OWN BOSS 


‘Til have ’em both ridin’ herd by the time 
yo’ gets back!” said Bill as he looked at them 
proudly. “Thet is,” he added, grinning, “un- 
less this here son o’ yo’r’n has got me workin’ 
fer him, an’ him in my job !” 

“Not much danger of that!” said Whitey. 
“I guess it’ll be some time before I can do the 
stunts that you seem to think are so easy.” 

Finally, after the good-bys had all been 
said, the train pulled out, and Mr. Sherwood 
waved at them from the back platform until 
they could no longer distinguish him, and the 
train dwindled to a speck in the distance finally 
disappearing altogether. And Whitey felt a 
thrill — the thrill that any strong, self-reliant 
boy feels when he realizes that he is, to all 
intents and purposes, his own master. 

“Mr. Jordan,” said Whitey, one morning, as 
he met the latter out at the corral, “is it all 
right for Injun and me to go over to Moose 
Lake and camp for a few days? He knows 
where he can get a canoe there, and he says 
the fishing is fine.” 

249 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


Bill thought the matter over for a moment 
and then said, smiling, 

“I a heap ruther yo’ ’d bring the lake over 
here, where I c’d keep my eye onto you’ ! Be- 
sides, I don’t reckon I’d git dispepsy eatin’ the 
fish thet yo’ all ’d bring back — Moose Lake’s 
more ’n sixty mile from here! Why don’t yo’ 
all go set on the bank o’ one o’ the branches 
an’ try yo’r luck?” 

“I’ve tried that,” grinned Whitey, “and 
either there aren’t any fish worth speaking 
about, or else they’re educated and too foxy to 
bite.” 

“Mebbe yo’r worm wasn’t tryin’ his best,” 
said Bill, solemnly. “The’s certain kinds o’ 
worms thet jes’ nacher’ly flirts with a fish — 
sort o’ coaxes ’em to cum up an’ ” 

“Yes, I know all about that,” laughed 
Whitey, “but we haven’t time to send our 
worms to school to teach ’em to flirt. Besides 
flirting isn’t proper, even for a worm. The 
main thing is — may I go?” 

“Well, Son,” said Bill, “I reckon yo’re yo’r 
own boss now, ain’t yo’?” 

250 


WHITEY HIS OWN BOSS 


“Not entirely,” said Whitey. “I'm willing 
to listen to your advice, anyway.” 

“Good!” said Bill. “Then I guess yo’ don't 
need none. It’s them thet won’t take it thet 
really needs advice. ’Bout how many days yo’ 
call ‘a few’?” 

“Four or five,” said Whitey. “I think that 
would be long enough.” 

“Goin’ to take a pack-hoss with grub an’ 
stuff — mebbe them Moose Lake fish is eddi- 
cated, too? A growin’ boy’s liable t’ git up 
condider’ble appetite ef he has t’ go ’thout eatin’ 
fer four five days ! Ef yo’ say so, I’ll pack up 
a tin o’ biscuit an’ mebbe a can o’ beans, in 
case yo’ all gits tired of a fish diet.” 

“That will be fine,” said Whitey, “tho’, may- 
be, you better make it two cans of each,” he 
added, laughing. “You know I have quite an 
appetite at any time— I don’t have to fast for 
four or five days to get one up!” 

“So I’ve noticed,” said Bill. “An’ now thet 
yo’ ’lowed as how yo’ ’d take advice, I’m goin’ 
to hand out some. Don’ yo’ two get separated 
too fur in thet there wilderness, an’ don’t go 

251 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


messin’ 'round with no grizzlies er painters — 
the’s both bad animals! I don’t reckon yo’ll 
see none, fer the’s pretty well cleaned out ; but, 
ef yo’ see a grizzly, an’ he don’t see you, jes’ 
nacherly put all the distance between you an' 
him thet yo’ kin. An’ ef he does see yo’, jes’ 
drop whatever yo’re doin’ an’ climb a tree — 
don’t waste no time a tall ; an don’t come down 
fer an hour after he’s left; they ain’t always 
gone w T hen they seem to be! As fur ’s other 
things go, Injun knows ’nuff to pilot yo’ 
through all right.” 

"I’ll remember,” said Whitey, “and I’ll prom- 
ise you that I won’t take any unnecessary 
chances.” 

“Good,” said Bill. “I’ll have thet pack- 
hoss ready with them two cans o’ beans onto 
him whenever yo’re ready to start. An’ say, 
listen — don’t fergit to bring home somethin’ !” 

Whitey promised that he would, and turned 
away to tell the good news to Injun, who had 
just ridden into the ranch-yard. 

The boys decided that they would start as 
soon as the necessary preparations could be 
252 


WHITEY HIS OWN BOSS 


made, and camp on the way for the night. This 
would bring them to Moose Lake late in the 
afternoon of the following day; and within 
an hour after his talk with Bill the boys rode 
out of the ranch-yard, their Winchesters slung 
across their shoulders, and leading a pack- 
horse that was piled high with what Bill called 
“a tin o' biscuit an’ a coupla cans o' beans/’ and 
were headed toward the mountains that looked 
so near, and yet didn’t seem to get any nearer 
as the boys put mile after mile behind them. 


253 


CHAPTER XXIV 


MOOSE LAKE 

Nothing of any importance happened on the 
ride during the afternoon, and the boys de- 
termined to get as far as possible that day so 
as to arrive at the lake while it would be day- 
light on the day following. The darkness had 
settled down before they pitched camp near one 
of the numerous branches in a hollow that 
sheltered them from the wind. The work of 
building a fire was attended to by Injun, while 
Whitey opened the pack that contained the “bis- 
cuit and beans/’ It was not long before they 
sat by the glowing fire and watched the 
tempting slices of bacon as they frizzled in 
the pan, and sniffed the fragrant coffee. After 
a hearty supper the boys lost little time in roll- 
ing themselves in their blankets, and were soon 
in the land of dreams. 

254 


MOOSE LAKE 


It is doubtful if a man ever sleeps so well, 
or if sleep ever does him so much good as 
when he takes it out in the open and upon the 
ground. He seems to imbibe or absorb some 
of the life-giving elements in that way, which 
refresh and restore the tissues far more than 
a sleep in any other bed would. 

The two boys were awake, had breakfasted, 
and were on their way, almost at sun-up the 
following morning. As the day advanced, the 
gradual rise in the ground became more per- 
ceptible, and the mountains began to come near- 
er. The trees and shrubs became thicker and 
the ground more rocky and uneven; and long 
before dusk began to settle down they found 
themselves on the shores of Moose Lake, and 
well into the foothills of the Rockies. 

Moose Lake was a considerable body of 
water, being perhaps nine or ten miles in 
length, though its greatest breadth was not 
more than a mile and a half. Its shores were 
rocky and heavily wooded ; in some places they 
rose high and precipitous from the water’s 
edge, while at other points they sloped gradu- 
255 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


ally down in sandy beaches. The water was 
clear and very cold and in many places the bot- 
tom was visible at a depth of twenty feet or 
more. 

Injun led the way around the southern end of 
the lake and toward the West, for a couple of 
miles, though the horses found the going very 
rough and they were obliged to pick their way 
carefully among the stones that lay in masses 
upon the steep slope of the mountain. After 
a time a small glade lay before them, and at 
one end of it was a cabin that evidently was de- 
serted, but in sufficiently good condition to 
allow it to be inhabited, and to furnish some 
protection against the weather and wild ani- 
mals. Here the boys proceeded to establish 
themselves, and after unpacking their belong- 
ings, they bestowed them in proper and con- 
venient places about the cabin. 

At the sides of the cabin were two sleeping- 
bunks — little else than narrow shelves ; but the 
boys, taking their hatchets, went out into the 
thick growth of pine, and soon returned with 
armfuls of fragrant boughs which they placed 
256 


MOOSE LAKE 


in the bunks to a depth of two feet, and made 
them comfortable. Soon a fire was blazing on 
the primitive stone hearth, and the water boil- 
ing in the camp-kettle suspended above it. The 
horses were tethered so that they might graze 
freely, and everything made ship-shape for the 
night, though there was an hour or more of 
daylight remaining. 

“There !” said Whitey, with a look of sat- 
isfaction, “this may not be quite so up-to-date 
as the ranch-house, but I’d rather be here than 
there.’ , 

Injun nodded and grinned his assent to this, 
but by the way he kept moving, showed that he 
was not yet through. 

“Him get fish plenty supper,” he said, as he 
got out some of the tackle that Whitey had 
brought. Whitey needed no urging, and fitted 
his jointed rod together and got out his book 
of flies. These Injun regarded curiously; 
he had no intention of fishing himself — that 
wasn’t the way he fished — but he wanted to see 
how the thing worked. 

At the lake, the boys went along the edge, 
257 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


Injun showing the way until, evidently locat- 
ing a mark, he stopped and scrambled down 
to some rocks, that were over-grown with 
brush. Making his way into this, he lifted 
out a canoe and two paddles, much to the de- 
light of Whitey; and a moment after, under 
the skillful strokes of Injun’s paddle, they were 
gliding over the glassy bosom of the waters, 
with scarcely a sound or a ripple. 

Whitey, sitting in the bow of the canoe, put 
a leader and fly on his line and made ready to 
cast ; but Injun shook his head. He steered soft- 
ly near to where a huge tree bent over the 
lake, and stopped the canoe, and Whitey cast 
the line so that the fly struck the water some 
thirty feet away. 

Almost at the instant that the fly hi? 
the water, it was snatched under, and Whitey 
felt a tug at his line and started to play the 
fish. He had learned something of the art 
when he had been in the Adirondacks with his 
father, but he was not quite prepared for any 
such fight as this fish put up. It darted this 
way and that, at times leaping out of the water 
258 


.MOOSE LAKE 


and shaking the hook like a dog shakes a rat. 
But finally, all his fight availed the fish noth- 
ing; for he lay in the bottom of the canoe, still 
making a few weak flops, but conquered. In- 
jun took a piece of string, and tying a stick to 
one end, he ran the other through the gills of 
the fish and let him trail in the water in the 
wake of the canoe. 

This whole performance was repeated many 
times, and although it was not always success- 
ful, two or three of the fish managing to get 
away, when Injun turned the bow of the canoe 
back toward the cabin, they had enough lake- 
trout to satisfy the most voracious appetite. 
Injun stowed away the canoe in its hiding-place, 
and both the boys threw off their clothes and 
plunged into the water to wash. 

Injun cleaned the fish, and rolling them in 
some corn-meal that Bill Jordan had placed 
in the kit for just this purpose, they were soon 
frying over the fire. 

“Delmonico’s chef has nothing on you, In- 
jun,” said Whitey, as well as he could with his 
mouth full of trout ; “you can’t get fish like this 
259 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


in any hotel that I ever was in ! It was worth 
coming sixty miles to get them !” 

Injun didn’t know who or what “Delmonico’s 
chef” was, but he knew that Whitey intended 
to be complimentary, and grinning, let it go at 
that. 

For a long time, after supper, the two boys 
sat before the fire in the cabin, listening to the 
night sounds and planning what they would 
do on the morrow. But, at last, Whitey began 
to yawn — nobody thinks of keeping late hours 
when camping in the mountains — and after the 
door had been barred, the boys tumbled into 
their beds of pine boughs and were asleep in 
less time than it takes to tell it, lulled by the 
occasional hoot of an owl or the far-away voice 
of a lonesome coyote. 

Injun was awakened in the night by a 
sniffing at the door, and he heard a slight com- 
motion among the horses. He reached for his 
Winchester and softly opened the door to re- 
connoiter. But whatever the animal was, he 
had made off; probably not liking the human 
scent ; and though the red boy kept vigil for a 
260 


MOOSE LAKE 


time, nothing occurred to disturb the quiet 
again, and he went back to his bed of pine 
boughs. Whitey slept through it all ; so sound- 
ly, in fact, that a regiment of soldiers might 
have marched across the floor and he would 
not have wakened. 


261 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE ISLAND IN MOOSE LAKE 

The fact that their evening meal had con- 
sisted largely of trout did not deter the boys 
from having the same kind of a breakfast, 
especially as the “breakfast” was even then 
swimming in the lake and just asking to be 
caught and eaten. 

So, after a dip in the cool water, Injun 
again took the canoe from its hiding-place 
and sent it out into the lake in the light 
of the early morning. In a few moments, 
Whitey had a fine string of trout trailing from 
the boat, and decided that one more would be 
sufficient. The “one more,” however, proved 
to be a Tartar, and such was the fight that he 
put up that, in the excitement, the canoe was 
over-turned and both boys were dumped into 
262 


THE ISLAND IN MOOSE LAKE 


the watej*. This made no particular difference 
to them, and they were inclined to regard the 
matter as a joke, until suddenly Injun said, 
“Where him rifle ?” Whitey remembered that 
the rifle had been in the canoe, and must now 
be posing at the bottom of the lake! Indeed, 
so clear was the water, that it could be seen 
resting on the bottom, some twenty-five feet 
below. 

“That’s a pretty good dive,” said Whitey, 
“more than twenty feet, I should say, though 
it looks much less. Do you think we can make 
it?” 

Injun’s answer was to duck under the water 
and force himself down with powerful strokes; 
but although he went down a long way, he 
could not come within many feet of it. Every 
motion that he made could be clearly seen, and 
Whitey watched him with considerable anxiety. 
At last he was forced to return to the surface. 
Then Whitey went down, but he fared no 
better; and after two or three more attempts, 
the boys came to the conclusion that it would 
be impossible to recover the rifle in that way. 

263 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“I have a scheme!” said Whitey. “We’ll 
mark the spot carefully, then swim ashore with 
the boat, right it and come back and fish for it 
with a hook and line.” 

This sounded all right in theory, but al- 
though they “fished” for more than half an 
hour, they did nothing more than move the 
rifle, as it seemed impossible to get it hooked 
securely. It looked pretty dubious, and the 
boys relaxed their efforts for a time and sat 
in the canoe thinking. 

“I’ve read somewhere of a trick the pearl- 
divers have,” said Whitey, and it is at least 
worth trying. Paddle back to the shore, In- 
jun.” 

Injun sent the canoe to the rocky shore 
with a few strokes of his paddle, and Whitey 
landed. He selected a large, heavy stone and 
placed it in the canoe, and Injun paddled back 
over the gun. Whitey let himself over the side 
of the canoe and Injun handed him the stone. 
Whitey took a long breath, and holding the 
stone in his arms, went straight down to the 
gun. Seizing it, he let go his hold of the stone, 
264 


THE ISLAND IN MOOSE LAKE 


and rose rapidly to the top, but heard a terrific 
ringing in his ears, and his heart beating like 
a trip-hammer. His chest seemed caving in 
and he was completely exhausted and hardly 
able to hang onto the canoe. Injun took the 
rifle, and paddled back to the shore; and for 
several minutes, Whitey lay upon the bank 
until he had recovered his breath. Injun saw 
that he was coming around all right, and then 
he carefully wiped and cleaned the rifle. 

“Pearl-diving may be all right, for those 
that like it ; but I never saw a pearl Fd go down 
that far after !” said Whitey, as he rose to his 
feet, a little unsteady at first, and made his way 
to the cabin. 

Injun cooked the breakfast, and Whitey was 
as good as ever, under the influence of trout, 
bacon, and coffee, and eager to carry out the 
plans they had made for the day. 

There was a large island at the other end of 
the lake that Injun said abounded in berries 
and various water-fowl; and as either of these 
would make a welcome addition to the menu, 
265 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


besides gratifying a taste for exploration, the 
boys determined to visit it. 

Whitey tried his hand at paddling; and, 
under Injun's tutelage, he quickly got “the hang 
of it" — at least, so that he could keep the canoe 
in a fairly straight line. But to be able to send 
it swiftly through the water without a sound 
and scarcely a ripple, requires long practice. 

After paddling for a couple of miles, it was 
evident, however, that it would take about all 
day for them to arrive at the island, if Whitey 
continued to furnish the motive power, and 
laughingly suggested that he was perfectly 
willing to let Injun do the paddling and 
suggested that they change seats. He rose 
in the canoe to effect this, but Injun vetoed 
this emphatically. He reached for the pad- 
dle, which Whitey handed to him, and In- 
jun simply turned the canoe around, and thus 
sat in the stern, the canoe being shaped simi- 
larly at both ends. Whitey smiled : “There are 
more ways than one of skinning a cat !” he re- 
marked, chagrined at having failed to notice 
such a simple and evident thing. 

266 


THE ISLAND IN MOOSE LAKE 


“I guess, Injun/’ he said, ‘Tm a good deal 
like the man who cut two holes in the barn 
door — a big one for the big cat, and a little 
one for the little cat! He and I would make 
a good team of managers!” 

Under the powerful and skillful strokes of 
Injun’s paddle — Whitey took the other paddle 
and tried to help, but finally put it away as he 
felt that he wasn’t of a great deal of assistance 
— the canoe soon scraped on the gravelly beach 
of the island. Injun lifted the canoe out of the 
water and placed it high and dry on the bank ; 
and, taking their rifles, the boys struck out into 
the dense woods that covered the island. 


267 


CHAPTER XXVI 


THE MAN ON THE ISLAND 

All that Injun had said or intimated about 
the island Was more than justified by the actu- 
ality. It rose to a peak at the center, but was 
filled with gorges and small canyons, and there 
were two or three little streams that splashed 
and rippled their way down to the lake. There 
were no trails, and had Whitey been alone, he 
would have found great difficulty in retracing 
his steps to the point where they had landed, 
except by making his way to the lake and fol- 
lowing the edge until he came to the spot. 

For several hours they rambled over the 
island, ate their fill of the luscious wild blue- 
berries that grew in profusion, but failed to 
bring down any of the wild ducks that swam 
about the bays and inlets, although they fired at 
them several times. 


268 


THE MAN ON THE ISLAND 


As they skirted the northern end of the 
island, high up on the rocky and precipitous 
bank, they came upon a cabin. Whitey was for 
advancing at once and investigating it, but 
Injun held him back — it was part of Injun’s 
policy never to rush blindly into a strange sit- 
uation, and never to take anything for granted. 
From the thick underbrush that concealed them, 
Injun examined the place carefully for at least 
five minutes before he ventured to come cau- 
tiously out of cover and approach the cabin. 
Even then, he advanced with great caution and 
without making a sound. 

It may seem that in exercising such extreme 
caution, Injun was, perhaps, over-doing it; but 
as a matter of fact, the boy was right. It will 
be remembered that he was a wild thing, and 
brought up in the wilds, where a good deal de- 
pends upon caution and vigilance. It is the 
way of wild animals, except possibly those 
which fear nothing, or those that are notably 
stupid, to ponder a strange situation very care- 
fully before rushing into it. 

Many of them will assure themselves of a 
269 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


way to get out as well as to get in; and if the 
matter is at all mysterious and not under- 
standable, will avoid it altogether unless driven 
by extreme hunger. Wild men and wild ani- 
mals are suspicious of everything — a strange 
noise, a strange scent, or a strange circum- 
stance, in the wilderness calls for investigation. 
Frequently, this extreme caution is the price of 
life, either to man or to beast, and both know 
this and proceed accordingly. 

A very slight thing had aroused Injun’s sus- 
picion. Whitey had not noticed it, at all. Be- 
fore the door of the cabin were two or three 
small, freshly-cut chips. Freshly-cut chips in- 
dicated recent human presence beyond any 
doubt. It would be better to know who the 
human was and whether he was at home before 
making their own presence known. The island 
was not a place for tourists, being far off the 
track that such people usually take; nor was 
the person, whoever he might turn out to be, 
a permanent resident. Injun had been over 
the island many times in the past spring and 
for two or three years before, and was thor- 
270 


THE MAN ON THE ISLAND 


oughly familiar with it; in fact, he had occu- 
pied the cabin on the occasion of his last visit. 
He remembered exactly how he had left the 
place, and could see, very plainly, that some one 
had succeeded him. He remembered that he 
had left the door open, but it was now closed 
—animals or winds seldom close doors, espe- 
cially doors that are hung on leather hinges 
and have to be pushed along the floor. 

Injun circled the cabin, leaving Whitey still 
concealed in the underbrush. At one point, 
Injun saw that fire- wood had been recently 
gathered and there were foot-prints in the 
damp earth made by high-heeled boots. This 
was proof positive — if any further proof was 
needed than that which Injun already had. He 
glided noiselessly to the wall of the cabin at 
the rear, and peeked through the chinks in the 
wall. He could see that there was no one in 
the cabin, and he came around to the side where 
Whitey was. He called to him, and both boys 
entered. 

There had been a fire upon the hearth a few 
hours before, and the sleeping bunk was filled 
271 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


with fir boughs. Nothing in the cabin indi- 
cated the identity of the occupant, however, and 
he seemed to have no extra clothes or the usual 
conveniences that a camper would be likely to 
bring. 

“What’s all this about?” asked Whitey, 
smiling rather tolerantly. “I don’t see any- 
thing so mysterious in finding that a man has 
been here. Why shouldn’t anybody come that 
wants to? We don’t own the island!” 

Injun shrugged his shoulders, and kept his 
own counsel; but it was very plain that he 
was not satisfied with things. He didn’t like 
being on the island with a strange man, and 
not know who the man was. He was “from 
Missouri,” so to speak. 

They left the cabin, Injun being careful to 
disturb nothing, and to close the door; and 
took pains to leave no mark of their visit. 

The boys skirted the western side of the 
island on their way back, and Injun set a rather 
fast pace. He was careful, too, to move with 
as little noise as possible and to avoid leaving 
more of a trail than was necessary. Those 
272 


THE MAN ON THE ISLAND 


things are simply second-nature to an Indian 
when he is in any doubt about his environment. 

At length, the boys arrived at the lake at the 
point where they had left the canoe. They 
made their way cautiously through the thick 
brush, but as they reached the water’s edge, 
they could see that the canoe was gone ! A hur- 
ried but thorough search, failed to reveal it. 
The boys were alone on the island, with a man 
who, perhaps, was not their friend ! 

“Well, what do you know about that?” said 
Whitey, in dismay. “It must be the man who 
lives in the cabin who has taken our canoe !” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


A DANGEROUS SITUATION 

It was a little more than half a mile to the 
mainland, although the boys had left their 
horses at the camp some distance further up 
the shore, and twilight was closing in fast, 
leaving little time for deliberation. Whitey 
put it up to Injun: “What shall we do — stay 
here or swim for it ? It seems to me we better 
go back to the cabin at the other end of the 
lake and make this fellow give up what he has 
taken,” said Whitey, tentatively. 

Injun shook his head. “Him gone,” he said, 
positively. “Him cow-puncher,” he added, 
pointing to the heel-marks on the beach. The 
marks had undoubtedly been made by boots 
such as cow-men wear; no woodsman would 
ever think of wearing such things in the forest. 

“Well,” said Whitey, “I guess that means 
274 


A DANGEROUS SITUATION 


we got to swim! I’m with you whatever you 
decide.” This would have been a most difficult 
and hazardous undertaking, encumbered as 
they were by rifles and clothes, and handi- 
capped by the darkness. 

Motioning Whitey to follow him, Injun 
started along the water’s edge and collected 
several small logs, most of them half rotted and 
stripped of their branches, and which, by their 
combined strength the two boys were able to 
move. Then Injun went back into the woods 
and returned with an armful of tough, pliant 
vines and bound the logs together in the form 
of a rude raft. It was no easy job, and by 
the time the raft was completed, it was pitch 
dark. 

“Not much of a boat,” said Whitey, “but it 
beats swimming in the cold water all hollow !” 

A couple of sticks, to which Injun bound 
some leafy branches, served as paddles, and the 
boys prepared to start. 

One trial sufficed to demonstrate that the 
raft would not carry both boys, and Injun 
quickly divested himself of his clothes and 
275 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


rolled them into a bundle and handed them to- 
gether with his rifle to Whitey, who was hav- 
ing his own troubles trying to keep afloat. 

‘■Here,” said Whitey, “I don’t know why 
you should do all the hard work! Maybe we 
both better swim back of the raft and put our 
clothes and rifles on it?” 

Injun shook his head, and gently pushed the 
raft with Whitey on it into deeper water. 
Whitey found some difficulty in using the pad- 
dle, as the slightest tip sent the logs awash; 
but after a few moments, he got the hang of it, 
and progress became easier, though by no 
means very rapid. 

“Say, Injun,” said Whitey, after they had 
proceeded for some distance, “you’re headed in 
the wrong direction! We left the horses up 
that way — toward the end of the lake. You’re 
going to land way below.” 

Injun nodded, as though he knew what he 
was doing, and made no change in his course. 
This he laid by the silhouette of the trees on the 
mainland, as the night was almost pitch dark, 
and only the faint lighter tint of the sky was 
276 


A DANGEROUS SITUATION 


visible above the line of their tops. The ever- 
cautious Injun seldom believed in going 
straight to his objective, but preferred to come 
to it in a somewhat roundabout way, and there- 
fore, an unexpected way. If the enemy expects 
that you will approach him from the south, and 
you actually come from the north, you have 
just that much advantage. It is he who will 
be surprised, not you. 

Suddenly Injun stopped swimming and list- 
ened; but before he could give a warning sig- 
nal, a dark object ranged alongside of the raft, 
and a light from a quickly uncovered lantern 
flashed in Whitey’s face, and the boy looked 
down the muzzle of a Colt forty-five less than 
six feet away. 

‘Toot up ze han’s !” said a menacing voice, 
and Whitey complied without any objection, 
though in doing so, the raft tilted alarmingly 
and the water swept over it, first this way 
and then the other ; and that discomfiture might 
be complete, both the rifles and Injun’s clothes 
slid from the raft and settled into the depths 
below! Fortunately, the clothes and the two 
277 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


rifles were at one side and a little behind 
Whitey on the raft, and not in the range of 
Pedro's vision. If he had seen them he would 
have known that he had to deal with two boys 
instead of one. But Pedro did see the raft tilt, 
and he realized that Whitey was helpless. 

A mocking laugh came from the canoe, and 
the voice continued: “Ah, zis ees too much 
lucky! Again I meet my yo’ng frien' what 
geeve me such keeck in ze belly an' rap on my 
haid wiz steek at ze Croix an' Cercl’ ! I haf ’ 
not forget — no, no! How yo’ lik’ tak’ nize 
bath wiz ze feesh in lak’? Huh?” Straining 
his eyes and peering into the darkness back of 
the lantern, Whitey saw the grinning face of 
Pedro. 

Whitey did some rapid thinking. It was 
evident that Pedro believed him to be alone, 
as the latter kept his eyes on him and did not 
seek to find his companion. Pedro had evi- 
dently found the canoe where Injun had drawn 
it up on the bank and for some reason had gone 
back to his cabin before starting for the main- 
land. The southern end of the lake was some- 
278 


A DANGEROUS SITUATION 


what bare of tall timber, and it was probable 
that Pedro’s attention had been attracted by the 
splashing of Whitey’s improvised paddle, and 
had been able to make out his figure against the 
lighter background of the sky. At any rate, no 
matter how Pedro had discovered the raft, the 
fact remained that he had discovered it, and 
now had both boys in a most precarious situa- 
tion. 

Whitey’s only hope lay in the probable over- 
looking of Injun, and he felt that this circum- 
stance might, in some way, turn the tables in 
their favor, provided Pedro did not make an 
end of him immediately. There was no doubt 
in Whitey’s mind that Pedro meant, eventually 
to kill him, but seemed to be in no hurry, pre- 
ferring to taunt the boy and to gloat over his 
apprehension, and thus make his revenge as 
frightful as possible. He calculated his chances 
of throwing himself from the raft, but knew 
that Pedro would fire before he could possibly 
accomplish this. Nor could he make a jump at 
the menacing muzzle of the revolver, for the 
279 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


raft afforded a most unstable and slippery take- 
off for a leap of any kind. 

All these things ran through Whitey’s mind 
with lightning rapidity, and the boy came to the 
determination that the best thing he could do, 
under all the circumstances, was to sit still and 
await developments. He dared not look around 
for Injun, feeling that it might indicate to the 
desperado the presence of a third party; and 
this would be fatal; for Pedro would imme- 
diately finish him to reduce the odds against 
him. He also felt that any parley might either 
throw Pedro off his guard and give Injun time 
to act. 

“Hello, Pedro !” said Whitey, summoning 
all his self-control, and grinning pleasantly; “I 
don’t think I need any bath to-night, with the 
fish ! I had one this morning !” 

“Yo’ go ’n haf’ nize, long bath, jes’ ze sam’ ! 
Yo’ go’n’ mak’ nize dinner fo’ ze feeshes — 
whan Pedro get fro’ wiz yo’ ! Yo’ haf’ planty 
fun wiz Pedro, one time! Now Pedro’s turn 
haf’ planty fun wiz yo’ ! Feeshes haf’ planty 
fun, too! Yes! Yo’ fodder come hunt an’ 
280 


A DANGEROUS SITUATION 


don’t nevaire fin’ yo’ someplace nowhere ! Zen 
mebbe Pedro get heem, too! Mebbe Mistaire 
Beeg Beel Jordan — Pedro get heem, too! By 
gar! An’ yo’ nize, leetle frien’ Injun-boy — 
Pedro cut heem een leetle pieces — mebbe cook 
heem an’ roas’ heem by fire! How yo’ lik’, 
huh?” 

“What’ll they all be doing when you are pull- 
ing this off?” asked Whitey, grinning, in re- 
spite of his desperate situation. 

“Nev’ min’ — zey do sam’ lik’ yo’ go’n’ do! 
Yo’ lik’ say yo’ prayer? Le’s hear yo’ say yo’ 
prayer, ’fore yo’ go down see feeshes!” taunt- 
ed Pedro. “Mebbe yo’ lik’ sen’ som’ message 
far’ well to yo’ fodder?” 

Whitey made no answer, but he kept up con- 
siderable thinking. There did not seem to be 
any opportunity for him to make a move with 
the slightest chance of success, and the horror 
of the thing was beginning to get on his nerves. 
Whitey was a very brave boy, but it would try 
any one’s courage to face this sort of a situa- 
tion. Pedro saw that his taunts and frightful 
281 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


threats were having some effect, and he started 
to apply himself to the torture with glee. 

“Ah Haaah!” he gloated, with a savage 

leer. “Mebbe yo’ lik’ ” 

Whatever it was that Pedro thought Whitey 
would like will never be known, for a most 
surprising thing happened ; probably more sur- 
prising to Mr. Pedro than even to Whitey. His 
canoe gave a sudden and violent turn, and 
Pedro, who was crouched in the bow in a half 
standing position, holding the lantern in front 
of him with one hand, and the revolver in the 
other, was pitched head-over-heels into the 
water, but not before the pistol had been dis- 
charged. The bullet went wide, and probably 
the firing of the revolver was involuntary and 
caused by the sudden upsetting of the man 
when he had his finger on the trigger. 

“Good old Injun!’’ yelled Whitey, exultant- 
ly, and he leaped from the raft at the spot 
where Pedro had gone down. 

The keen sense of hearing that Injun pos- 
sessed had warned him of the approach of the 
canoe in the darkness, but before he had a 
282 


A DANGEROUS SITUATION 


chance to warn Whitey or to take any meas- 
ures himself, the canoe was upon them; and 
Injun loosed his hold of the raft and sank 
silently beneath the surface of the water and 
swam a short distance away before coming to 
the top toward the stern of the canoe. He kept 
his eyes and ears above the surface by tread- 
ing water, and heard the conversation; and 
aided by the fact that Pedro prolonged it for 
the purpose of torturing his victim, he was 
able to form his plan. 

Sinking again below the water, he swam to 
the left side of the canoe, and at the moment 
he believed Pedro to be in the most unfavorable 
position and off his guard, he clutched the side 
of the canoe and gave it a violent tug. It is not 
much of a trick to upset a canoe — Whitey al- 
ways claimed that he had to part his hair in 
the middle to keep one balanced — and the yank 
that Injun gave the canoe would have upset a 
good sized yawl. 

Pedro, taken entirely unawares, let go of the 
lantern and revolver, and both went to the bot- 
tom. He was a most indifferent swimmer, and 
283 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


instead of swimming under water and trying 
to avoid the two boys, he strove to come to the 
top as quickly as he could and. get rid of a 
large portion of the lake that he had involun- 
tarily swallowed. But in this he was not alto- 
gether successful. The moment he had gone 
over-board, Injun had gone under after him, 
and Whitey’s leap had landed the boy directly 
on top of him just as he got his head partially 
out of the water and before he had time to take 
a breath, and under he went, spluttering and 
gasping and in a panic. Against two such 
swimmers as Injun and Whitey, the man did 
not have a Chinaman's chance. Injun had him 
by the legs, and Whitey had his arms about his 
neck, with a grip on his wind-pipe; and the 
more he struggled and struck and kicked at 
the boys, the more exhausted he became and 
the weaker was his resistance. It is probable 
that he would have been glad to surrender, but 
was in no position to say so. And it is doubtful 
if the boys would have listened to any proposi- 
tion in regard to an “armistice.” They had 
him, and they knew it! If anybody was going 
284 


A DANGEROUS SITUATION 


to furnish a “nize, leetle dinner for ze feeshes,” 
it would be Pedro ! 

Soon, his struggles grew weaker and weaker, 
and, finally, relaxed altogether; and it was a 
pretty thoroughly drowned Pedro that they 
held up in the water at last. 

“See if you can find the canoe and the raft,” 
said Whitey, when he had got his breath. “I’ll 
hold him up while you get them.” 

“Whaffor?” asked Injun. “You swim, me 
swim, him swim! Him feed feeshes!” 

“Nothing doing!” said Whitey. “This is too 
good a chance — we’ll bring him back to the 
ranch !” 

Whitey was “the boss,” as Injun had de- 
clared long ago; and Injun swam about in 
widening circles until he came upon the raft. 
The canoe had either sunk or had drifted away. 

Injun pushed the raft back to where Whitey 
held the unconscious man up and between them, 
they managed to slide him onto it, although it 
was considerable of a job, handicapped as they 
were by the darkness. But, at last, it was ac- 
complished, and although Pedro was plainly 
285 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“all in,” Whitey took the precaution of tieing 
his hands with a belt which the man wore. 

The weight of the fellow made the frail raft 
more unstable and “unseaworthy” than ever, 
and it required a good deal of management to 
keep him on it. 

“Look out!” said Whitey, as the raft tilted 
at a dangerous angle, “he’s sliding off!” And 
by a desperate effort, Whitey righted the logs 
and kept Pedro on it. 

“Me should worry!” said Injun, who was 
becoming educated. In fact, the whole proceed- 
ing was entirely foreign to Injun’s ideas of 
how to treat an enemy, and if it had been left 
to him, he would have tied a rock around 
Pedro’s neck to insure that he went straight 
down to “Davey Jones’ Locker.” Injun could 
not see any reason for taking so much trouble 
to save the life of a man who would inevitably 
be hung or lynched. And, for the matter of 
that, other people than Injun have had the same 
feeling! 


286 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


A PENITENT PRISONER 

By the time the raft grated on the peb- 
bles of the mainland the moon had begun 
to show over the horizon, and its light dis- 
sipated some of the difficulties that confronted 
the boys in their undertaking. They rolled 
Pedro onto the beach with difficulty, and sat 
down beside him for a moment to rest. 

The prisoner began to show some signs of 
coming to, and Injun was for taking a huge 
rock and preventing any return to conscious- 
ness by banging the man on the head with it. 
Whitey prevented this, however; but he as- 
sured himself that Pedro was securely tied. By 
means of some tough, but pliable vines that In- 
jun got from the brush near at hand, he not 
only bound Pedro's hands behind his back, but 
287 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


hobbled him so that he could take a step of not 
more than a foot in length. In addition to this, 
he put a slip-noose about the man’s neck with 
a long leash; and having Pedro thus trussed 
up, he awaited his returning consciousness with 
some interest. 

The outlaw took several short, gasping 
breaths, each longer than the other, and at last, 
his eye-lids trembled and then opened, and he 
looked at the two boys beside him. It took him 
a moment to realize his situation. When he 
did, it was evident that he did not enjoy it, 
and he looked malevolently at the boys. Injun 
brandished a huge club that he picked up 
nearby. 

"Had a ‘nize, leetle’ nap, didn’t you, Pedro !” 
said Whitey, imitating Pedro’s taunting tone. 
"That dinner for ‘ze feeshes’ had to be post- 
poned, didn’t it! Now, maybe you’d like to 
say a few prayers ? How about it ?” 

Pedro decided upon other tactics: "Pedro 
jus’ play jok’ on nize, leetle boys! Pedro not 
hurt nize boys!” 

"I know blame well you won’t,” said Whitey, 
288 


A PENITENT PRISONER 


“for the simple reason that you can't! You’re 
going to be ‘ver’ nize’ from now on! Nice and 
gentle! Come on,” he said, rising, “you are 
due for a nice long walk back to the ranch — 
it’s only sixty miles and there’s a hearty wel- 
come waiting for you there — your old friend 
Bill Jordan will be mighty glad to see you!” 

Pedro studied Whitey’s face with his black, 
evil eyes. “Sure !” he said, “I go — be ver’ nize ! 
Yo’ ontie Pedro’s foots so he walk!” 

“Sure!” said Whitey, “I’m full of those 
tricks! I’ll untie your feet — when we get to 
the ranch! Get a move on!” 

Pedro rose to his feet and started off as well 
as the hobble would let him, but made rather 
a poor job of walking over the rough ground 
in the semi-darkness. He made another ap- 
peal to have the hobble removed, but he 
abandoned any further effort in that direction 
when Whitey said, “Injun, if he turns around 
again or makes any bluff at falling down or not 
being able to walk, you just belt him one over 
the head with that club and see if it doesn’t 
help him to walk better!” 

289 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


“Me soak ’em!” said Injun, eagerly, and he 
gripped the club; he evidently didn’t see the 
use of waiting until Pedro did any of these 
forbidden things, but was willing to hit him 
now and let him disobey the rules afterward. 

“ ’T won’t do to muss him up too much,” 
protested Whitey. “The boys at the ranch 
will want to hang a whole man, not a half 
of one; and if you ever land on him with that 
club, we’ll have to bury him right here !” 

Injun indicated that such a proceeding 
wouldn’t be any trouble at all to him, but 
Whitey said it would take too long as they 
didn’t have a spade ! What Pedro thought 
about it is not recorded. 

After a considerable time and in spite of 
numberless difficulties — Injun, being without 
any clothes whatever, suffered somewhat from 
the briars and rough vines and branches — the 
strange procession arrived at the glade wdiere 
the horses had been left, and found that the 
animals were still there. And while it would 
have done Pedro good to have been compelled 
to walk back to the Bar O ranch, yet Whitey 
290 


A PENITENT PRISONER 


figured that it would delay them unnecessarily, 
and, therefore, he decided to tie the gentle- 
man on the pack-horse. To do this, it would 
be necessary to untie the hobbles that limited 
Pedro's leg-action, and the vine was according- 
ly cut, releasing his legs, while Injun stood over 
him with the club, ready to -“soak 'em" at the 
first move. Whitey looked at the gleaming 
bronze skin of Injun and asked, “Aren’t you 
cold, Injun?" Injun disclaimed any such feel- 
ing contemptuously. 

“I thought," said Whitey, “that as long as 
we had his legs untied, you might want a pair 
of pants?" 

Injun experienced a startling reversal of 
form: “Ugh! Injun heap cold!" he said with 
a tremendous show of shivering. And accord- 
ingly the transfer was made, although Pedro 
put up an awful fuss, which was entirely futile. 
True, the trousers were not a perfect fit, and 
they were very wet and soggy; but they were a 
pair of trousers, and Injun was not particular. 

After drawing them on, he proceeded to 
investigate the pockets, and took therefrom 
291 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


a very sizable roll of bills and several water- 
soaked documents. There was not sufficient 
time or light to investigate the character of 
the documents, but from the way Pedro took 
on, they were evidently of some importance. 
He wheedled and whined and pleaded and then 
cursed and threatened, but all that only con- 
firmed the boys in their determination to keep 
the stuff. 

Under the persuasion of Injun’s club, Pedro 
was soon seated on the pack-horse, his legs 
bound very tight beneath the horse’s belly and 
the cavalcade started on their sixty-mile trip. 

The moon had risen and shed a full, 
silver flood over the woods and the prairie, and 
it was almost as light as day. It is said that 
moonlight will make almost anything look ro- 
mantic; but it is hard to believe that Pedro, 
clad in a wet, bedraggled coat and red flannel 
underwear, and with a leash around his neck 
and his hands tied behind his back, could have 
inspired anything but laughter in anybody. He 
was “mad clear through” and his language was 
distinctly not fit for publication — he had 
292 



The cavalcade started on its sixty-mile trip 






























A PENITENT PRISONER 


abandoned all efforts to wheedle by this time, 
having discovered that he was not deailing 
with children, as he had at one time supposed 
— and he proceeded to exhaust a very compre- 
hensive vocabulary of profanity in what sound- 
ed like six different languages. Whitey stood 
it for some time, and then he said, “Now look 
here, Pedro, if you say another word before 
sunrise, Tm going to put a gag into that foul 
mouth of your’s that’ll keep you quiet. I 
wouldn’t let even these horses hear such talk! 
You told me to say my prayers, and now, I 
think, under the circumstances, you better fol- 
low your own advice !” 

And thus admonished, in addition to the fact 
that Whitey drew the slip-noose a trifle tighter 
around Pedro’s Adam’s apple, that gentleman 
proceeded to subside. 

It would be idle to follow the incidents of the 
long ride to the Bar O ranch — in fact, there 
was no incident worth noting. Pedro made 
several efforts to talk himself out of his plight, 
and once, he tried to get his hands out of the 
bonds that held them and almost succeeded. 
293 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


But what good it would have done if he 
had succeeded, is not plain. The boys had a 
sharp eye on him at all times, and his legs were 
firmly bound beneath the horse. Besides, In- 
jun was right on hand and ready with the club, 
which would have had a very salutary effect on 
anybody. 


294 


CHAPTER XXIX 


BRINGING HOME THE CAPTIVE 

Late in the afternoon, Bill Jordan and many 
of the cow-punchers stood near the corral of 
the Bar O, watching Walker break one of the 
green horses. Walker was having a more than 
ordinarily hard time with the animal, which 
evinced an extraordinary viciousness. No one 
saw the cavalcade until they were within the 
confines of the yard. 

“Sufferin’ Jehosaphat !” said Basset, “will 
yo’ all give a look at what’s here?” 

In two seconds. Walker and the horse per- 
formed without any spectators, and the entire 
crowd made a rush for the trio. No one rec- 
ognized Pedro at first, one reason being that 
he had further misbehaved himself in his use of 
lurid language, and he had been effectually 
295 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


gagged, and the effect of the red flannel under* 
wear was somewhat startling. 

Injun, too, presented a slightly ultra effect in 
Pedro’s trousers which hung down and com- 
pletely concealed his feet, and gave him the ap- 
pearance of a boy with the legs of a very tall 
man; and the huge club that he brandished 
threateningly at the dejected looking Pedro 
added to the picturesqueness of the get-up. The 
entire party were worn out and travel-stained, 
and presented a most “shot-to-pieces” aspect. 
But notwithstanding his condition, Whitey was 
jubilant. 

As they drew near the group of cow-men, 
Whitey shouted: “You told us to bring back 
something , and I guess we did!” 

Bill Jordan drew nearer, eyeing the group 
intently and convulsed with laughter at their 
appearance. 

“I reckon yo’ shore did,” said Bill, who was 
plainly puzzled, “but what is it?” 

“I don’t believe you need any introduction to 
the gentleman,” said Whitey, “but if you do. 
I’ll present you to him. He didn’t want to 
296 


BRINGING HOME THE CAPTIVE 


come, but Injun and I persuaded him to accept 
an invitation to spend some time with us. Mr. 
Jordan and gentlemen of the Bar O, allow me 
to present Mr. Pedro ! He would like to shake 
hands with you all, but circumstances prevent !” 

And with this, Whitey removed the handker- 
chief that acted as a gag and obscured the low- 
er part of the prisoner's face. 

A howl went up from Bill and the ranch 
men that must have scared the cattle out on the 
range, and they crowded around the unhappy 
Pedro to assure themselves that it was really 
he. Bill Jordan could scarcely believe his eyes ; 
he grabbed the pack-horse by the bridle and 
turned him around several times, and viewed 
the dejected Pedro from all angles; then he 
fixed his eyes on the outlaw and the latter 
quailed under the glance. 

“I shore am plumb devastated with six kinds 
o’ delight to meet yo\ Mister! An' I don’t 
doubt none thet th’ gen’lemen here’ll over-look 
th’ onconventionality o' yo’r makin’ yo’r debut 
inta sassiety ’thout th’ formality of havin’ no 
pants on to speak of. ’Tain’t usual — not in 
297 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


no drawin’ rooms what I frequents, it ain’t — 
but the’ ’s a ‘Welcome’ onto the mat o’ this 
here dump fer yo’, pants er no pants !” 

"What kind of a galliwumpus er ring-tail 
giasticutus hev’ we here?” said Walker, who 
had "finished” the broncho, and had come to 
join the group around the boys and Pedro. 
"Er is it jes’ somethin’ the cat brought in?” 

"Give it another slant an’ yo’ won’t need no 
interduction,” said Bill, as he pushed Walker 
nearer to the unfortunate Pedro. Walker 
started as he looked keenly at the man’s face. 

"Well, I’ll be tee-totally jim-swizzled !” 
shouted Walker. "Dog-gone ef it ain’t our ol’ 
frien’ Pedro! Why, Pedro, ain’t yo’ ’shamed 
to be gallivantin’ ’round all ondressed up, like 
yo’ be? But, never mind, 01’ Top! We all is 
goin’ to pervide yo’ with a nice wooden over- 
coat thet’ll cover up them red-flannel laigs o’ 
yo’r’n so ’t they don’t flag the Overland Lim- 
ited: 

"Ain’t it a shame we ain’t got no camera — 
an’ this here thing settin’ on thet hose in front 
of us! I reck’n Pedro’s frien’s ’d like a pitcher 
298 


BRINGING HOME THE CAPTIVE 


of 'im in this here get-up so 's they c’d 'member 
how he looked jes' 'fore he kicked off!" 

“I've got a camera," said Whitey, and run- 
ning into the ranch-house, he returned with it 
in a moment. 

At the sight of the camera, Walker set up 
a howl of delight. “Now, Mr. Photografter," 
he yelled to Whitey, “yo' git th' machine in 
kerflukus an' I’ll pose this flamingo-legged buz- 
zard inta divers an' sundry fascinatin' posi- 
tions! Yo' jes' p'int that there box at 'im and 
I'll do the rest !" 

“Hoi' on!" said Charley Bassett. “Thet 
there looks t’me like a perfec’ly good camera — 
ain't yo' takin’ an awful chanct, Kid, a-p'intin' 
'er at hunk o' dog-meat?" 

“I guess the camera 'll stand it, Charley," 
said Whitey, “though it has never had a severe 
test like this." 

“Shore!" said Walker; “Take a chanct, Kid! 
When I gits through drapin' him 'round the 
scenery, I reckon he’ll be some picture-squee !" 
Walker grabbed the bridle of the horse on 
which Pedro was perched and swung it around 
299 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


broadside to the camera. “Set up there, yo’ 
owdacious varmint, an’ look happy an’ take 
yo ’r medicine ! Look happy, I tell you’ ! ’F yo' 
don’t look happy right pronto, I’ll let Injun see 
T he kin bend thet there fence-post he’s carry in’ 
over yo’r bean !” 

Injun moved up nearer and gripped the 
“fence-post” entirely ready to carry out his 
part of the program. 

“Mebbe yo’ better wait a minute, Injun,” 
said Walker, “till we git the pitcher; ’t wont 
do to sp’ile him altogether — yeti” said Walker 
significantly. 

“All set?” asked Walker. “Ef so, shoot!” 

Whitey pointed the camera at Pedro and got 
the proper focus. “Hoi’ thet pose, yo’ spavined 
coyote!” yelled Walker, at Pedro. “Hoi’ it, I 
tell you l’ ’F yo’ move, an sp’ile this here nega- 
tive, Injun is gonna bust yo’ one! Look right 
at the box, yo’ bashful an’ blushin debbytanty! 
Look at th’ box for mamma, an’ see th’ nice 
birdie come out !” 

Whitey snapped the trigger, and Basset was 
much relieved to learn that the lens had not 
300 


BRINGING HOME THE CAPTIVE 


cracked. Under Walker’s skilful and gentle 
posing, two or three more pictures were taken, 
and then Bill Jordan called a halt. 

“I guess thet ’s ’bout ’nuff,” he said. “The’ 
ain’t no use imposin’ on a willin’ an’ good- 
natured pitcher-machine.” 

“All right,” said Walker, “when does th’ 
festivities start?” he asked of Jordan. “I 
claims th’ honor of furnishin’ th’ rope!” 

“Well,” said Jordan, hesitatingly, “ef we all 
’d run ’cross this here maverick’s trail out in 
the open, I reckon the festivities ’d ’a’ begun 
an’ finished, right there. An’ I certainly has 
regrets an’ apologies ’bout denyin’ yo’ all th’ 
privilege of takin’ a active part in the obse- 
quies touchin’ on an’ appertainin’ to th’ kickin’ 
off o’ this here polluted skunk. But this here 
community is committed to the statoots o’ Law 
an’ Order, in sech case made an’ pervided, as 
The Good Book says ; an’ I reckon, as long as 
them boys went out an’ hog-tied this here ulcer 
onto th’ decency an’ fair name o’ the Sovereign 
State o’ Montana, he’ll hev’ to be tried by a 
jury o’ his peers — jes’ like a respectable mur- 
301 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


derer would ; — tho’ where they’re going to git 
twelve peers o’ this here low-down msec’, is 
more’n I kin onderstand ! I guess thet part of 
it’s up to the Sher’ff.” 

“Try him!” shouted Walker, dashing his hat 
onto the ground, in amazement and rage; “try 
him ! What in blazes does anybody want t’ try 
him fer? Don’t ever’body in sixteen states 
know ’t he’d oughta bin hung ever sence he was 
two year old? Yo’ an’ yo’r statoots don’t 
ondertake to try no mad dog, do yo’? Yo’ 
don’t go out an’ collect no twelve peers to set 
on a jury ’fore ’yo’re ’lowed to shoot the 
pizen head off ’n him, do yo’ ? An’ ef this bird 
ain’t worse’n a hull kennel o’ mad dogs an’ a 
nest o’ rattlers throwed in fer good measure, 
then I’m plumb locoed an’ b’long into a padded 
cell up to the nut-foundry !” 

“I admits all yo’ says in regards to th’ 
gen’leman’s character — in fac’, I may say yo’ 
ain’t done justice to him, not in no way, yo’ 
ain’t. But thet ain’t the p’int — we got t’ abide 
by th’ law, no matter w T hat he done, an’ per- 
sonal inclinations don’t cut no figger. Ef ’t ’d 
302 


BRINGING HOME THE CAPTIVE 


bin lef’Y me, he 'd 'a' bin ‘requiescat in pieces/ 
a consider’ble spell back. But th' law's th' law, 
an' I got t' hand him over to th' a-thor’ties, 
jes' th' same's ef he was a white man. I'm 
plumb grieved, but I got t’ do it! Why didn’t 
yo' bust him over th' bean 'ith thet wand yo' 
/got there, Injun ?" asked Bill. “It 'd 'a' saved a 
> lot o’ palaverin' an' hard feelin's an' expense 
to th' caounty !" 

“Him say bring 'im in!" said Injun, re- 
proachfully, pointing to Whitey. “Me bust 'im 
now !" and Injun lifted the ponderous club and 
was prevented from braining Pedro, missing 
him by a narrow margin, as Bill Jordan de- 
flected the blow. 

“One strike!" said Walker. “Give th' kid a 
chanct — he's entitled to two more ! Go on, Kid, 
knock him fer a three-bagger !" 

“No more o' thet!" said Bill, with as much 
sternness as he could muster. “I'll take charge 
o’ this dose o' small-pox an' put him on the 
ice till the Sher'ff gets here. Walker, go call 
up the Sher’ff's office, an' tell him t' come an' 
get this here prize-package. Seems t' me, 
303 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


now’t I think of it, the’s a reward comm’ t’ 
yo’ two kids. ’F I remember right, the’ was 
quite some consider’ble sum put onto his head. 
Seems like he was some valuable to the caoun- 

ty.” 

This, indeed, turned out to be true, and with- 
in a short time, the sum of two thousand dol- 
lars was paid over to the representatives of the 
boys. Bill Jordan was selected by Injun as his 
guardian, and Bill accepted the responsibility 
gladly, but with some misgivings. 

“What is yo’ purposin’ to buy with all this 
here kale, Mister Ping Pong Morgan?” asked 
Bill of the boy. “Would yo’ ruther hev’ a 
steam yacht er a coupla railroads ?” 

“Pink pajams!” said Injun, without any 
hesitation. 

“A thousand dollars worth of ’em?” asked 
Bill. 

“Sure!” said Injun. 


304 


CHAPTER XXX 


PEDRO'S HATRED 

‘What started the trouble between you and 
Pedro, Injun ?” asked Whitey, as they stood by 
the corral the next morning. Bill Jordan had 
just delivered Pedro into the hands of the 
Sheriff, and the half-breed had given vent to 
his opinion of Injun in the most lurid language 
that he had at his command, seeming to blame 
the boy for all his woes. The tirade had been 
interrupted by a blow in the mouth delivered by 
the Sheriff's heavy hand ; but Pedro was taken 
away, cursing Injun volubly, and telling what 
he would do to him if he ever were able to get 
his hands on him, and the vehemence of the 
man left no doubt as to the amount of venom 
that was in his heart. 

Injun grinned in answer to Whitey’s ques- 
305 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


tion. “Him tell,” he said, pointing to Bill Jor- 
dan. Making a lengthy narrative was not ex- 
actly Injun's long suit, and he delegated the 
job to Bill. 

“Well,” said the latter, “it came about this- 
away. Thet skunk hoboed it in here, one day, 
'bout a year an' a half ago — when ol’ man 
Granville was alive — an' he was ’bout the 
down-an’-outest proposition yo’ ever see. He’d 
bin shot in the shoulder an’ the wound hadn’t 
had no attention an’ th’ cuss was ’bout all in. 
He didn’t hev’ no horse ner no gun ner no 
clothes t’ speak of — he didn’t hev’ nuthin’ ’cept 
hunger an’ thirst an’ mis’ry. Nobuddy ’d ’a’ 
giv’ five cents fer a car-load like him, ’cept fer 
fertilizer, an’ it shore did look like he was 
playin’ hookey from the graveyard with the 
ondertaker on his trail ’bout two jumps behind 
him an’ gainin’ fast. If ever a guy stod ’ith 
one foot in th’ grave an’ t’other on a banana- 
peel Pedro was it. 

“Well, Sir, ol’ man Granville took him in — 
th’ ol’ man jes’ nacher’ly couldn’t see nuthin’ 
suffer — an’ started in t’ renovate him ; an’ take 
3°6 


PEDRO’S HATRED 


it from me, it was some consider’ble job. He 
set up nights an’ nu’sed thet low-down houn’ 
back to life an’ health, an’ saw ’t he had 
ever’ thing — jus' like a white man ’d oughta. 
Seems like this here Pedro c’d talk French lingo 
an’ so c’d ol’ man Granville. When th’ two of 
’em was at it, y’d a thought the’ was a pack o’ 
fire-crackers goin’ off, not t’ mention th’ ac- 
tuaries of their hands, which was consider’ble. 
Tears like a man ’t ain’t got no arms ’d be con- 
sider’ble handicapped expressin’ himself lucid. 

“Well, ’t any rate,” Bill went on, “in ’bout 
two months, Pedro was able to set up an’ take a 
little nourishment while they made his bed, an’ 
I c’d see ’t he was a heap sight better ’n he let 
on t’ be. An’ him an’ th’ ol’ man ’d set onto 
th’ porch an’ play pedro by th’ hour. Th’ ol’ 
man liked th’ game so well he lent Pedro money 
so ’s he c’d win it back — only it didn’t turn out 
thet way, an’ Pedro was a steady winner — so 
much so ’t us boys giv’ him thet name — ‘Pedro.’ 
An’ I will say ’t the cuss was some gifted when 
it come to turnin’ a Jack off’n th’ bottom er 
shiftin’ th’ cut. I see him pull them stunts one 
307 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


day when I was watchin’ th’ game, but I didn’t 
say nuthin’ to th’ ol’ man ’bout it, him bein’ 
free, white, an’ over twenty-one an’ not relishin’ 
bein’ told he were a sucker — not at no time he 
didn’t! He always ’lowed he c’d pertect him- 
self, an’ mos’ gener’ly he could. 

“But while I didn’t say nuthin’, I thinks to 
myself ‘what kind of a hombrey ’s this thet 
’ll giv’ the work to a gent as has did as much 
fer him as th’ ol’ man done?’ ’Peared t’ me 
thet ef a guy yanked me back out ’n th’ grave 
an’ put me on my feet, I would flip no Jack off 
’n th’ bottom on him — not fer no money, I 
wouldn’t! But ’t wa’n’t none o’«my business; 
besides, mebbe th’ ol’ man was jes’ tryin’ him 
out an’ gittin’ a line on him. 

“An’ ’nother thing — ever’body but th’ ol’ 
man c’d see thet Pedro was soldierin’ on him 
an’ was plenty able to get up an’ earn a livin’. 
But thet wa’n’t Pedro’s gait — ’s long’s some- 
buddy take care o’ him, he didn’t pear t’ worry 
none ’bout takin’ care of himself. An’ he’d 
four-flush round ’bout how sick he felt an’ how 
his shoulder hurt, an’ thet whiskey was ’bout 
308 


PEDRO’S HATRED 


th’ onlies’ thing ’t relieved him. An’ he shore 
licked up a lot o’ th’ relief ! He was Alice-sit- 
by-th’-firewater, fer fair ! Lit up like a Chris- 
mus tree at ten in th’ mornin’, an’ oreide by 
four in th’ afternoon — reg’lar. 

“Bimeby, when he did get to goin’ ’bout, he 
got a sudden ambition fer work, an’ th’ ol’ man 
giv’ him a hoss an’ outfit an’ he rode fence. An’ 
’s far anybuddy c’d see he done pretty good. 
But after a spell, things begun t’ turn up 
missin’ — not big things, but trifles — a little 
money, now an’ then, an’ a saddle er two, an’ a 
lariat occasional, an’ sech. Pedro managed to 
throw suspicion at Injun, here, an’ we got t’ 
thinkin’ thet mebbe th’ boy was at the bottom 
of them petty-larceny goin’s on, an’ fin’ly, I 
tells Injun he better keep off ’n th’ ranch. 
Seems this didn’t exac’ly tickle Injun t’ death — 
him not bein’ no thief — an’ he done a little 
detectivin’. He trails Pedro an’ locates his 
cache an’ leads me an’ Walker to it an’ shows 
us th’ stuff, includin’ some things we knowed 
b’ longed to Pedro. How thet bird got wind of 
it all I dunno, but he did ; a right at th’ same 
309 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


time me an’ Walker was at the cache, an’ most 
o’ th’ boys away from th’ ranch house, he snuk 
in a grabbed quite a roll of bills out ’n th’ safe 
’t happened t’ be open, an’ took a shot at o Y 
man Granville, nickin’ him in th’ arm, an’ gits 
away clean! Yes, sir — after all o Y man Gran- 
ville done fer him ! 

“A spell afterwards, he meets up ’ith Injun — 
s’prises him, an’ th’ kid ain’t got a chanct t’ git 
away. He starts in t’ hev a little hangin’ bee — 
a necktie-party, like I tol’ you’ ’bout — but he 
made th’ mistake o’ lettin’ Injun set onto his 
own pinto an’ he put the noose ’round Injun’s 
neck ’fore he throwed th’ other end o’ the lariat 
over th’ limb o’ th’ tree! Th’ minute he 
throwed th’ lariat over th’ limb, Injun dug his 
knees inta th’ pinto — mind you’, Injun’s hands 
was tied behind his back — an’ th’ pinto knowin’ 
what Injun was thinkin’ ’bout, like I said, beats 
it away from there with th’ lariat draggin’ on 
th’ ground! O’ course, Pedro took after him, 
but lucky fer Injun, after he’d rode ’bout a 
mile, he sights me an’ Walker ridin’ fence, an’ 
Pedro sights us, too. An’ he beats it, an’ we 
310 


PEDRO’S HATRED 


never seen him till yo’ an’ Injun brung him in 
here t’ git his pitcher took.” 

Whitey took a long breath : “Gee !” he said, 
“That was a narrow escape !” 

“Correct !” said Bill. “An’ ef you don’t think 
it was some trick fer thet kid t’ set onta thet 
hoss, his hands tied behind him an’ th’ lariat 
dragging yo’ try it sometime !” 

Bill put his hand on Injun’s shoulder affec- 
tionately. “Thet ’s what I call ridin’ a hoss !” 
he said. 


CHAPTER XXXI 


PLANS FOR THE FUTURE 

If Columbus, or the early Norsemen, or who 
ever it was that first discovered America, had 
been satisfied to sail vessels within the confines 
of the known seas in their immediate neighbor- 
hood, the existence of this great continent 
would have remained unsuspected by the people 
of the Old World. It is the spirit of adventure, 
of dissatisfaction with things as they are, that 
is at the bottom of all great discoveries and of 
all progress. And although the boys had gained 
a wide-spread fame on account of their cap- 
ture of the desperate Pedro, who was even 
then in jail awaiting the day of his execution, 
they* did not like to rest on their laurels, but, 
like Alexander, sought for “new worlds to 
conquer.” 


3 12 


PLANS FOR THE FUTURE 


After their excursion into the wilds, the life 
on the ranch, while by no means dull, lacked 
the zest of adventure and discovery, of which 
they or, rather, Whitey, at least, had had a 
taste. Injun had spent all his life in adventure, 
and while it was nothing new to him, it had 
become a sort of second nature, and made the 
limitations of even semi-civilization irksome. 

And with this urge going on in Whitey's 
breast, it was natural that he should inquire 
of Bill Jordan, as they sat on the piazza one 
evening, “Mr. Jordan, what kind of a place 
is it in the mountains, over beyond Moose 
Lake?” 

Bill took his pipe out of his mouth and looked 
intently at the boys before replying. 

<f Was yo' calc’latin' on goin' out an’ grabbin' 
off some more rewards an’ sech, bringin’ in 
some more hombreys like Pedro? Er mebbe, 
yo' all 'd be satisfied t' locate a coupla gold 
mines er somethin' ? What was yo' all s^dyin' 
'bout doin'?” 

“I don't know as I had a definite plan,” 

3L3 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


said Whitey, “I just asked you what kind of a 
place it was over there.” 

“Yes, I know — yo' all didn't have no inten- 
tions — that's why yo’ all wanted to know 'bout 
the place !" and Bill grinned, tolerantly. Then, 
after thinking a moment, he said, “As fur’s the 
place goes, I reckon it's some wild an' on- 
cultivated. I ain't bin through it fer some 
years, but I reckon 't ain’t changed none t' 
speak of. Prospectors give up tryin' there 
long ago, an' I reckon 'tain't good fer much 
else — consider'ble amount o’ rocks an’ scenery 
— thet's 'bout all. 

“I wouldn't mind owning a gold mine,” said 
Whitey. “That is, a good one,” he qualified. 
Bill uncrossed his legs suddenly and puffed 
rapidly, as he shook all over with inward laugh- 
ter. 

“The’s them 's had thet idee before. Son,” 
he said, grinning. “A reel good gold mine's a 
handy little thing t’ hev 'bout the house! I 
dunno's Fd turn one down ef 't was offered t’ 
me!” 

“Well,” said Whitey, “I guess the only way 
314 


PLANS FOR THE FUTURE 


to get one is to go out and find it, isn’t it? I 
don’t believe anybody is going around offering 
’em to people.” 

‘Would yo’ know a perfeckly good gold mine 
’f yo’ was t’ meet it cornin’ ’long the road?” 
asked Bill. “Hev’ yo’ got a speakin’ acquaint- 
ance with gold mines, so ’t yo’ c’d walk right 
up to ’em an’ bid ’em the time o’ day?” 

‘Well,” said Whitey, “gold is gold, isn’t it? 
I’ve been seeing it all my life — I ought to know 
it!” 

“Well,” said Bill, “they don’t dig it out ’n the 
ground in the form o’ twenty-dollar gold-pieces 
er watches an’ chains an’ rings — not this sea- 
son, they don’t. Lemme show yo’ all some- 
thin’,” and Bill rose and went into the ranch- 
house. In a moment, he returned with a dirty 
reddish looking piece of rock about the size of 
a hen’s egg and handed it to Whitey. “What 
’d yo’ calcdate thet thing is?” he asked, as he 
resumed his seat. 

Whitey examined it, and Injun looked at it 
interestedly. “I should say, if we had not been 
315 


THE GOLDEN WEST BOYS 


talking about gold, that it was a piece of iron 
ore, but now I suppose it's gold/* 

“Correct!” said Bill, “an’ mighty near pure 
gold, too! Whenever yo’ come across a few 
tons o’ stuff jes’ like thet, jes’ yo’ put ’em in 
yo’r pocket, an’ o Y John D. won’t hev nuthin’ 
on yo’!” 

“Is there any of it over beyond Moose 
Lake?” asked Whitey. 

“Strange to say,” said Bill, “thet there chunk 
come from over thet way. But I guess thet 
was ’bout all of it the Lord put there, thet is, 
in the way o’ quartz — I reckon ’bout all the 
streams shows color, but they don’t never pay 
to work ’em.” 

“Well, don’t you think Injun and I ” 

“Yes,” interrupted Bill. “I do. Ef yo’ two 
galliwumpuses hes made up yo’r minds t’ go 
out an’ get yo’rselfs a few gold mines, I ain’t 
th’ man t’ put the kibosh onto it — only, yo’ ain’t 
goin’ there alone — not ef I’m the lawful g’ar- 
deen o’ thet there person ’ith the passion fer 
pink pants, yo’ ain’t ! Yo’ all kind o’ got me ex- 
cited ’bout prospectin’ — I ain’t done none fer 
316 


PLANS FOR THE FUTURE 


years; but onct it gits a holt onto yo’, it ain’t 
easy shook — an’ as this here ranch is a good 
deal of a pianola proposition — plays itself — 
mebbe I c’d find time to go nosin’ ’round with 
yo’ all fer a spell. Air yo’ all open fer a 
pardner?” 

Were they open for a partner! They were! 
Nothing could have delighted the boys more 
than to have Bill accompany them ; and the next 
few days were spent in preparations. But, 
unfortunately, things do not always turn out 
as planned. Plenty of things turned out — but 
not according to Bill’s schedule. All that will 
be known when Injun and Whitey strike out 
for themselves. 


317 





































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“BOYS’ GOLDEN WEST 
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In the writing of these stories the author inc.' ; 
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